


Picking Up The Pieces

by GunTotingScienceNerd



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Aftermath of Torture, BDSM, Caretaking, Choking, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Dom/sub, Drinking to Cope, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Heavy Drinking, Loneliness, M/M, No Aftercare, Non-Consensual, Off-screen Relationship(s), Painful Sex, Painplay, Physical Abuse, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Temperature Play, Whipping, bad bdsm, loving bdsm, wound care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:52:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 29,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7775038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GunTotingScienceNerd/pseuds/GunTotingScienceNerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodimus in a bad relationship with someone, and they're hurting him. Rodimus thinks it's what he wants because at least someone cares. Or do they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“Rodimus report to the bridge, this is your final warning.”_

It was the third time Ultra Magnus called him. Even Megatron was becoming concerned.There was being late, there was making an entrance, and then there was Rodimus. A not so subtle betting pool had begun amongst the bridge crew with varying reasons as to why their co-captain was late. Some were talking about how much he’d had to drink the night before at Swerve’s. Some were talking about some new lover their errant captain had taken. Others yet were talking about their suspicions Rodimus was taking drugs, citing numerous times they’d seen him stumbling the halls of the ship. 

Rodimus staggered from the lift as soon at the doors opened wide enough. “I’m here Magnus, geez. You’d think I was late or something.” 

“You are late, very late. Five minutes and thirty-eight seconds late to be exact. Which, while not a behavior I wish for you to continue, would be more acceptable if this weren’t your third time this week, and all without calling ahead to notify anyone. 

Megatron watched as Rodimus shivered, alternating between wrapping his arms around his middle and using one arm to push off from the wall to keep himself standing. While he and the younger mech and grown closer he’d gone through great pains to keep himself from becoming personally involved with anyone on this ship. They’d all made their feelings for him well known on more than one occasion, and he would not force his company where it was not wanted. This, however, was unsettling to see someone suffer through. Whatever was wrong with Rodimus had only affected him in a selfish manner until he was confronted with the sight that stood before him. “Ultra Magnus, if I may interrupt. I’d like to speak with Rodimus alone for a moment. Captain to captain.” 

“What!? Not you too, look I said I was sorry!” For all the outrage and anger Rodimus was trying to exude he shrank in his physical standing. 

Megatron stepped between Rodimus and the snickering crew. “Go to the office, now,” he said, his tone the low rumble of a coming storm that would not be ignored. Rodimus ducked his helm and walked along the wall never straying too far from it, still shivering, still listing every few steps. 

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Magnus spoke as they watched Rodimus duck into the office without reaching for the lights. “He’s always been brash, immature despite his years, but never like this. It’s troubling. Optimus will want to know.” 

“Optimus keeps tabs on Rodimus?” Megatron’s voice carried a hint of shock, and the slightest twinge of anger. He could understand why he would be checked upon, but the younger, he’d done nothing to warrant the overbearingness to which Ultra Magnus hinted. “Say nothing yet. We might spare him the dressing down he’s sure to get. It may very well be nothing to concern your Prime about. He is a very busy mech after all.” 

Ultra Magnus turned his stern look on their crew who had taken it upon themselves to dissect Rodimus’ behavior. “I’m not sure. This is not at all good. If the crew is to be believed, it is worse than I’d imagined. It’s not really something that I can overlook once it’s been so obviously brought to my attention.” He gestured to the crew though his voice kept their exact conversation from prying ears. 

Megatron rubbed at his chin; his decision was made, but it was best to give Magnus his due diligence. “I can understand that. If you are looking to fulfill your obligation to bring his behavior to the attention of those that might be most concerned, would I not fit that bill as well? He is, after all, my co-captain in the matters concerning this ship and its crew.” He turned to face Magnus, laying his hand on the larger mech’s shoulder. “Why not let us try to steer him back on course without calling the attention of those that are not directly involved rather than heap grief upon him. He is young, Ultra Magnus. And we are all foundering, in our own way, to find a different path from the one we’ve trod in millennia past. Let us help him. Let me try, at least?” 

Magnus gave Megatron a long, hard look. He could detect no deception in Megatron. No raised spark rate, no elevated ventilations, nothing that indicated the mech before him was not being sincere. “You raise very valid points. We have been trying this approach with no discernible change, maybe… Fine, I’ll let you try it your way, but if he does not improve or change his reckless ways, I will have to call Optimus.” 

Megatron nodded, turning towards their office, he stopped just before entering. Speaking over his shoulder, Megatron glared at the bridge crew. “If none of you have anything better to do then I’m sure Magnus and I can find a task more suited for you than your current gossip mongering. Door frames to be measured, lighting to be inspected, rivet duty on the outer hull…” He trailed off when it was apparent his threat had landed home, and everyone returned to their jobs. 

Opening the door to their office, Megatron was surprised to see the darkness that greeted him. He stepped in quickly, letting the door close behind him. “Rodimus?” He called into the blackness.

A deep sigh then a faint, “I’m here.” Blue optics opened and turned their dim gaze on him. Rodimus was curled up, helm pressed into the corner. “Please don’t yell.” 

“I won't if you tell me what is wrong with you?” 

Rodimus huffed a laugh. “Oh, now, isn’t that a loaded question.” 

Megatron fought back a sigh and added another mental tick mark to the Optimus-sent-me-here-as-a-sick-and-twisted-form-of-punishment list. He moved closer to where Rodimus sat, and every one of his heavy footfalls made the young Prime twitch or jerk. As he crouched down the smell of ozone, burnt wiring, and ionization hit him. “You were late because of a… tryst? Rodimus that is hardly…”

“No! Yes? …Maybe… Sort of… Look I don’t know exactly what to call it, but I wasn’t fragging anyone. I was just tied up, literally, and I can’t really do this right now, okay? And I don’t really want to talk about it, at all really, was actually told I’m not allowed to so, yeah. Now if you don’t mind, tell Magnus to give me about five minutes, and I’ll go relieve him and take the rest of my shift. He can save his lecture for the next time I’m on duty or whatever.”

Rodimus pushed to stand but only made it halfway before he sank to his knees again. He tried twice more before Megatron spoke. “Stop.” The softly spoken words instantly stilled the smaller mech. “You will hurt yourself further if you continue to push past what you are able to handle.” He retrieved one of the many blankets Rodimus always had laying around, returning to drape it over the now shaking form. “Stay as you are, comm me if you need, but I will be back after I’ve seen to Ultra Magnus.” 

Heavy footfalls retreated from the office, leaving Rodimus alone in the dark again. He wrapped himself tightly in the blanket, curling up as much his form would allow. Tears slowly joined his shivering as words from a different darkened room echoed loudly in his head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if the shift before wasn't bad, the morning after doesn't go well either.

He waved Megatron off when the other captain returned and trudged through his shift. False bravado and carefully crafted social mask holding in place until the doors to his habsuite closed behind him. The moment the lights wouldn’t flicker on he knew where his night would lead. 

“You told.” The door behind him locked though he hadn’t touched it. “You were given explicit instructions not to tell.” 

Rodimus fell to his knees; helm bowed hands resting on his thighs. Maybe if he followed these rules, he wouldn’t get in as much trouble for having broken the others. “I had to say something. I was late for my shift for like the third time. Magnus was going to hand me my aft. Megatron was even there. I-I didn’t mean to say anything.” 

“Do you want this to end? I was under the impression you enjoyed our arrangement. We can end it if you’re not mature to handle our arrangement.” Rodimus could hear the sounds of joints moving, of another shifting to stand. “Maybe it is just best if we end this anyway. I’m not sure I can tolerate more of your disobedience.” 

“No no, I can handle it. I mean I’ll get better. I’ll be better.” Rodimus shivered, hands clenched for a moment then reopened to lay flat against his thighs. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll do whatever you ask. I can be better if you’ll give me a chance.” 

“I don’t know. You’ve admitted being late for your shift. You have been seen to be having a very hard time of even pretending to be normal lately. I think maybe you just can’t handle a relationship of this depth. I think maybe I should just cut my losses and move on.” 

Rodimus could feel the other circling him, part of him felt caged, trapped. Another part of him held fast, burning with his desire to get this right, to do what the other expected of him. The greater the effort, the greater the reward and all that. Rodimus lowered his head and waited. If the other wanted to leave Rodimus wouldn't stop him. *Speak only when spoken to.* He'd learned not to break that rule quickly enough. 

Something dark dropped in his lap. “Put that on. Let's see if you can convince me you're not a waste of my time.” Rodimus fiddled with the fabric until he could figure out how he was supposed to put it on. “Hurry up and stop wasting my time.” A hood. He slipped it over his head and lowered his hands to his lap again. The other came up behind him and drew the cord along the bottom tight, the limited visibility he had now gone. 

“I think you need a reminder of what happens when you break the rules.” 

Rodimus could feel static surging, from when and where the shock would come would be the surprise. The how much and how long would test his willingness to keep and please his partner. That it would hurt would be a given. He’d always liked danger. It was fun for him to skirt the edge of what was safe. But this, this sometimes gave him pause. Rodimus tried to bite the whimper that escaped him, hoping he wasn’t heard. 

“You just can’t keep quiet can you?” Rodimus heard the power in the shock stick raise. “Let’s see if I can make you stop.” 

As the darkness closed in on Rodimus, he didn’t know whether to be proud of himself of afraid. He didn’t scream. His mechanics did whine, that was unavoidable, but he’d kept quiet. Even though the overload that was currently sending him offline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the Discord Beta's for looking this over. (@DinobotGlitch you rock)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron is concerned. Rodimus is in denial.

Rodimus stumbled onto the bridge again. He smelled of burnt wiring and blown fuses. Megatron rubbed at his face before turning to greet his co-captain. “You’re la… not okay. What happened?” 

Rodimus waved his hand, dismissing the other’s concern, “Nothing, racing again. Misjudged a turn. Hit the wall. It’s fine, don’t tell Magnus, you know how he gets.” 

Megatron stepped in the path of the smaller mech, concern flooding his field. “Racing, you say?” He cupped Rodimus’ head tipping it back to look for something he hoped not to see. “This is not something that would be caused by racing, not with the way you transform. For a racing injury to cause this damage, you would not be standing here.” A black thumb stroked softly beneath Rodimus’ eye. The irising mechanism spiraled wide open; his pupil was blown. 

Rodimus jerked his head out of the other’s grasp. “Don’t touch me.” His quick movements betrayed his lack of balance, sending the mech stumbling. He glanced around the bridge looking for anyone that may have seen them. “You aren’t supposed to, don’t touch me. No one is.” 

“Rodimus,” the word held a depth of meanings. Megatron’s posture changed. He knew that stubborn set of Rodimus’ spoiler. “Yes, I apologize for any boundaries I may have crossed. The Handover Notes for this shift are in the office. If you’d join me, I can answer any questions you might have about them.” 

Rodimus gave Megatron an appraising glance and a wide berth as he walked to their shared space. It was unlike Megatron to let his odd behavior slide. He had been asking more and more about Rodimus' accidents and clumsy acts. 

“The notes are on the desk.” 

Rodimus jumped at hearing Megatron's voice so closely behind him and hurried towards the desk. It would not do for him to be lost in thought and let his public mask slip. He shifted the datapads on the desk, looking for the larger one they used for ship’s notes. 

“Oh, my mistake, here it is.” Rodimus turned to see Megatron’s massive frame leaning against their office door, holding the datapad up. He slowly walked closer, stopping just out of arm’s reach. “I apologize for the deception, but I feel some honesty is in order. For all that we push at each other like magnetic opposites, you have grown on me. I have made it a point in the recent months to be more sincere with you. As such, I would like to say I am concerned for you. I understand, our history being what it is, that you may not wish to confide in me, but I am here should you wish it. And as your counterpart, I must bring up the fact that injuring a captain is a grave offense. If you will not talk to me about what is going on, then Magnus? Or maybe Ratchet? As a medical professional…” 

“Nothing is going on. I’m fine. Everything is fine. And if anything was going on, I could totally handle it… or myself. I can totally handle myself. So yeah, I’m fine, and it’s all good, and I have the ship so you can hand me that and just go. Okay?” 

Megatron watched Rodimus storm from their office, the blown pupil hindering his movements and depth perception. Rodimus was reaching for things slowly, reassuring himself of their location in relevance to himself before interacting with them. His misjudgment of the captain’s chair’s location was covered up by a flop that the once brash mech turned into a sprawl. ::Stop staring at me. I got this. Go away tall, dark and broody.::

::As you wish:: Megatron stepped out of the shadow of their office, pausing briefly to look at Rodimus. ::Though should you need me… I do wish to be your friend, Rodimus.::

Megatron left at that, walking to the lift without looking back, so he never saw Rodimus watching him leave.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No rest for the weary or wounded, not even when Rodimus asks for it.
> 
> **Tags have changed. Read and heed them please.**

“I told you no one should touch you.” Rodimus’ door hadn't fully closed before the angry voice called to him from the dark. 

“It's not like I invited him to.” Rodimus tried to keep his voice calm; too many emotions were warring inside him. Most prevalent was a nagging pain that was eating a hole somewhere within him. “Look I appreciate the time you've spent on me, all the chances you’ve given me, but is it okay if we don’t do this tonight? I'm sore and tired and have this killer headache that won't go away.”

"You ungrateful little wretch!” He didn’t the hear the other mech move. His head injury was making the room spin far more than it had from just the other turning him face first into the wall. “You talk too much. Do yourself a favor and shut up.” A rope was forced between his teeth pulled tight behind his helm then twisted around his neck before it was pulled tight. “Maybe I should punish you for all the trouble you’ve caused. Make you learn your voice is better when it's not used. That will be your lesson for tonight.”

Rodimus’ fingers scratched at the wall. His lips burned where the rope cut into them. But he submitted, letting it all happen as he withdrew to watch from inside his mind. The quicker he complied with his lesson, the faster the overload would come and the sooner the pain would stop. 

“Good, you’re learning. Now open for me.“ Without hesitation, Rodimus’ panel slid away. Another length of rope looped around his leg just above his knee, then again around his neck. A hard jerk had the rope lifting his leg. The other’s spike slid against his valve as it extended from behind him. Once, twice it rubbed at him before pushing its way into him, harsh push-pulls against his not quite ready body burned. Rodimus complied with the demand for silence by biting the rope and breathing harshly into the too close wall. 

“Excellent Rodimus, you’re learning.” He nodded at the compliment. It earned him a lightening of the force filled thrusts, allowing his body time to catch up with the act being committed to it. His frame relaxed by small increments. “You like this don’t you? Being controlled? Having someone keep you in check? Making sure you don’t step out of line, again?” 

Rodimus didn’t respond. He wouldn’t dare. Instead, he focused on his body’s reactions. How best to make this good for the other. How best to end this early. He held his breath just a little longer than necessary. Rodimus bit hard into the rope, pressing his head forward and tightening the ropes around his neck just a bit more. He could feel the other’s breath on his neck become ragged, the harshly spoken not heard words becoming more breath than speech. Soon, it would be over soon. The ropes holding him tightened more as the other’s climax neared. 

Rodimus leaned as far into the pull as his frame, his balance and the wall would allow. He could hear his energon pulsing in his lines, feel the racing of his spark against the strain on his body. _Soon._ The fuzziness crept up on him as the static of overload snapped at his frame. With a shouted groan, a harsh jerk of the ropes the other overloaded hard into him. The energy from the stimulation triggered his own. As the other released him to go to bed, Rodimus again complied in silence and was glad when the darkness came to claimed him. 

Tomorrow and all its harsh realities could wait until then to inflict their pain. Today he’d had enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Megatron seeks answers and Rodimus wishes for comfort. Neither of which are easy to come by.

The doors to medical slid open and without looking up Ratchet’s retort gave Megatron pause. “If you’re not dying or bleeding, and in that order, I’m busy and don’t have time for you right now.”

“I think something is wrong with Rodimus. I have no form of confession and cannot prove it other than years of experience at knowing when someone is trying to hide something.” Megatron tried to sound annoyed. He had no doubt that this mech of all would see the concern despite his efforts to hide it. 

“There’s always something wrong with Rodimus. You’ll have to be a little more specific.” Ratchet stopped what he was doing and turned to face his former enemy. Arms and ankles crossed as he leaned against the medical slab. Body language was something Megatron was adept at reading; Ratchet was concerned as well.

“Blown pupil, equilibrium out of caliber, aversion to touch as if it causes pain. And dour attitude, even when not in trouble or bored. Various burns, scrapes, and dents with no probable cause. Late for duty shifts, and no bluster or flamboyance in the past few months.” Megatron shifted his weight under the medic’s stern gaze. They may have been on opposite sides of the war, but Megatron had a healthy respect for Ratchet’s ire and had no desire to earn it. 

“The injuries could be from a wreck while racing, except I know he hasn’t done that because his racing partner has been otherwise occupied with a different Wrecker. That those injuries are not from taking out a bulkhead at full bore is reason enough to be concerned, but it’s the lack of typical Rodimus behavior that sells me on this. So what do you think is going on, and exactly what do you want me to do about it? “

~oOo~

“I told you to be quiet.” The eerie calm of the other’s angered voice was as shocking as the blast of directed liquid nitrogen that hit Rodimus again. All his plating clamped down tight; all his vents sealed closed, but that didn’t keep it from seeping in, nor did it keep the extremely cold plating from burning his internals. “You were doing fairly well. You hadn’t really messed up in weeks. Then you had to go and get cocky. Dancing on the table at Swerve’s? I thought we’d talked about how you were allowed to behave in public. I figured I had made it very clear how I wasn’t going to allow your immature antics to continue. I thought you understood that kind of behavior wasn’t allowed.” Each statement punctuated by the cold shock of freezing gas to a delicate piece of his plating.

Finials and spires had cracked, abdominals were close to it, alerts and warnings flashed at him across his HUD faster than Rodimus could dismiss them. “Sorry! I’m sorry. Please." He danced away as best he could from where he was strung up against a wall. "It’s been a stressful few weeks. Megatron suspects something. I know he does. He’s giving me these looks and asking all these questions.” Rodimus forced the words out through chattering teeth. 

“So not only did you act inappropriately, you’ve let Megatron become suspicious? Remind me again. Just why do I keep wasting my time on you? You really are just worthless, aren’t you? Why the universe hasn’t taken you out yet, I’d like to know. And not even one assassination attempt, amazing.” The other’s voice dripped with venom and was fortified with anger. All of that adding to the precision infliction of pain laced pleasure. This recent revelation being enough to finish tonight’s lesson by long blasts of super cold gas from one direction while heating coils burned at him from another. 

Rodimus was only barely aware of the ache in his joints as he was taken down from the hooks on the wall and tossed across his berth. The thin blanket thrown across him not quite taking the edge of cold away or holding the heat in. He had hoped he’d earned some lighter attention from the other night, but as the darkness of exhausted recharge fell over him he watched the door to his habsuite closed, silence was his only remaining companion, once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to DinobotGlitch and NCA for looking this over for me. I appreciate it very much.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he looked in the dictionary, Rodimus would see the definition of irony.

That Megatron was early for his shift was of little surprise. That he asked to speak with Rodimus alone was also of little surprise. It had become par for the course, and it was something Rodimus had grown to dread. Being alone with his co-captain was part of their hand-off duties. They would discuss pertinent information and occurrences around the ship before handing over control to the other. It was the repercussions from his late night visitor that made Rodimus fear his interaction with Megatron. 

As the door to the Captain’s Ready Room slid shut, Rodimus dropped his gaze to avoid looking Megatron in the face. That mech was far too good at reading him and knowing things he should not.

It was Megatron who spoke first. “Before you hand over control, I wonder if I might speak with you about a personal matter?” That grabbed Rodimus’ attention and brought his gaze to the crimson optics searching his own. Megatron was never anything but confident, commanding, and in control, the exact opposite of his current bearing. “Something has been happening. To me. And I am unsure of how best to handle it. I’d like your opinion, if you don’t mind?” 

Rodimus cast a worried look at the closed door. He knew that if he remained alone with Megatron for too long, there’d be hell to pay later. He warred with that and his desire to help. It was nice to be valued, even if for just a moment. Resigning himself to the pain to come, he stopped and gave Megatron his full attention. “What’s going on and how can I help?”

“I have, as of late, been engaged with someone intimately. It was mutually beneficial and with no strings attached.” Megatron shifted his weight, sighed, and shot a Rodimus a quick appraising look before lowering his gaze. He then moved to sit on the couch in the room, elbows on his thighs, legs spread, hands clasped between them, head dropped to look at the ground. “I am reluctant to speak of this but am at a loss for what to do. Those relations have started becoming more…”

When Megatron didn’t finish his sentence, Rodimus crossed the room to sit next to him. “What?” Rodimus asked as he sank down on the couch facing his counterpart. 

“It’s rather disconcerting to say, my reputation being what it was and all. But what started as a consensual relationship has progressed into one that is bordering on violent. I have asked for things to return to the agreed upon grounds but am met with pain. Things being as they are, I am unable to defend myself without violating the conditions of my parole. As such, I am unsure as to where to turn or how best to handle this situation.” 

“Someone is hurting you? Someone is hurting you, and you have asked them to stop, but they keep on doing it?” His anger was taking on a life of its own. “No one deserves to be hurt, especially by their lover. I can’t believe someone is hurting you. Tell me who it is and I’ll airlock them. I’ll sic Magnus on them, or better yet, I’ll add them to the quantum engine like I did that sparkeater." Rodimus stood and began pacing. "You’re not who you used to be. You’ve changed. Everyone deserves a second chance; that’s what _this_ means.” He rapped hard on his chest, over the red badge emblazoned there. “No one deserves to be treated like that.” His defensive anger ebbed away as his last statement spilled out.

Megatron stood slowly facing Rodimus, large black hands laid alongside the raised collar faring, thumbs brushing along the anger-heated metal, “No, they don’t. It is my hope that now you will start to believe it holds true for yourself as well.” 

Rodimus blinked up at Megatron, words slow to move past what remained of his defensive anger. “So you lied to me? No one is hurting you?” 

Megatron released him, regret coloring his field as hands threaded together in front of him. “I apologize for the falsehood, but no other way I have tried has reached you. I was at a loss for how to show you that you do not deserve what is being done to you.” 

“I’m fine. I’ve told you I’m fine. Everything is fine, and nobody is hurting me.” Rodimus stood to his full height, gaze automatically falling to a point just beyond Megatron’s shoulder. “Now, if we’re done, you have a ship to run.” It wasn’t a question. It was an excuse to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible. 

“Rodimus, wait.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it didn’t have to be to carry or get the attention of the mech he hoped to reach. “I know what it’s like, the feeling that you deserve what’s being done, the sense that you need the pain, and the oblivion it brings. I understand the wish for absolution, but someone taught me that there could be more to life. That sometimes the hardest thing to do is to live, live with who you were and strive for who you can be.” 

“Yeah, Optimus is great at motivational speeches and all that. It’s part of his charm or something.” The compliment was halfhearted at best. 

“Maybe, but it wasn’t him I was speaking of, it was you. I owe you a great deal, and have a great deal more to make amends for if you’ll allow it.” He held Rodimus’ gaze, sincerity prominent in his field. 

For all of his bravado and braggadocio, Rodimus had a very hard time hearing good things about himself. “Yeah, well, sometimes the words that tumble out of my mouth make sense every once in awhile.” He made his way for the door. He was late leaving his shift now and had no doubts in his mind that it would be noticed by his… whatever they were. 

“One last thing, if you will. I know your shift is over, and I apologize for keeping you. I have grown rather fond of you. For all your foibles, you are endearing. I know we are not close, but if there’s ever anything I can do for you, anything at all, please let me know.”

~oOo~

Later when the pain started and the words from the other hit too close to home. When the tears fell, and the joints wrenched, when the silence and the loneliness crept in after, Rodimus remembered, then just as quickly dismissed, Megatron’s one last thing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The devil takes his due, and the price for his conversation with Megatron is high.

The whip’s lash fell again. “Please!” And again he writhed body twitching then jerking harshly when kibble on his knees came too close to the energy cage surrounding him. “Please. Stop.” This was something beyond pain. The plasma strands had long ago burned away the color nanites on his back. The energy cage had burned and scorched any part of him it touched. Energon ran in rivulets behind his armor from the wounds. “I don’t want this anymore. Please, I want this to stop.” Rodimus forced the words out in pained gasps. 

“Stop? You want me to stop? After all that you’ve done, you think you can just say _stop_ and it will be over?” The laugh that followed was cold. “No way is it that easy, especially for you.” 

Rodimus had no reply. The changed buzz as the plasma whip's setting was raised higher let him know his requests had once again been ignored. Thoughts of concerned crimson optics, echoes of softly spoken words tinged with concern ran over and over through his mind as the next set of lashes fell. His spoiler burned, his back was raw, his shoulders screamed at holding his weight for so long. Rodimus let himself drift away to that place inside his mind where the pain never reached him, and the loneliness never left him. He hid there, inside his own mind, until his bonds were cut without warning. He hit the floor hard shoulder and spoiler taking the brunt of the impact. His head smacked off his pauldron harshly, only then did he leave his safe haven and return to the world filled with pain. 

_If you ever need me,_ The rasp of a voice that could mesmerize millions murmured softly in his mind.

A foot swam into his darkening vision. 

_If there’s ever anything I can do for you,_ he'd ignored the concern coloring that voice when those words were spoken, but deep in his spark he yearned for it now. 

Energex was poured over his frame; the high-grade mixture burned his open wounds letting him feel every single of them just a little bit more. “Pathetic.” the voice of the other sneered. He felt the footfalls of the other get farther away before the door opened then closed. 

Rodimus lifted himself to all fours. He needed to clean his wounds, well the ones he could reach away. He had no idea exactly how badly off he was, but if the way his protoform pinched and pulled was any indication it was beyond not good. He should call for help. He needed it, he knew. He should call someone for help, but the name that readily sprang to mind was the last one he wanted to see him like this. “I am pathetic.” He said as he collapsed in the shower, having just enough energy left to send commands for his shower to engage and at what temperature he wanted before darkness claimed him, again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Help comes in all forms and when Rodimus least expects it.

The cold shower slowly dragged Rodimus from his welcomed abyss. He shivered furiously as his frame sought to build heat. Errors and warning rolled across his HUD forcibly ignored. He hurt in ways and places he’d never hurt before. Yes, Wreckers got damaged, Rodimus was no stranger to pain, but this was more raw in a way that is hard to describe. 

He tried to lift himself to his hands and knees. His frame felt far heavier than normal. There was a blanket and a warming pad on his berth calling his name if he could get his body to cooperate enough to get him there. Every move jarring at his sore and aching back, flopping down on his bed brought gasps and whimpers of pain. 

As the emptiness of his room, of his life, settled in Rodimus' mind conjured images of how other couples acted on the Lost Light. Bringing drinks to each other, unexpected touches that brought happy smiles, expressions of devotion by way of mutual care, things said, time shared doing casual everyday things. All of that brought another ache to Rodimus’ spark. 

He thought about how his flamed exterior was a very appropriate representation for the intimate aspect of his life. Very hot and very short-lived. Except for this time. This whatever it was wasn’t his typical hot, fast, then crash and burn. This one didn’t seem to be ending, and right now he could feel nothing but dread for their next time spent together. 

Rodimus alarm beeped at him warning him of his impending shift. Magnus would have his aft if he called off again. Megatron would give him that disappointed look that held as much weight as any Optimus had given him. Not to mention the repercussions he would receive from his late night visitor. But there was no way he could go out in public like this. Nothing to be done for it, he couldn’t stand upright so he’d have to call off. As he pondered what halfway decent reason he could give this time before a soft knock drew his attention to his door. 

“Rodimus?” That voice was a choir of angels and the drums of doom all in one. 

“Yeah, uh, I was just about to call you, or uh Magnus actually.” He panted hard from the exertion of making himself heard and maybe a little fear. “I had a little too much Nightmare Fuel at Swerve’s last night. I'm still hung over as all hell. I’m going to need one of you two to cover my shift or something. I’ll owe you ok? Thanks, Megs.” 

“You weren’t at Swerve’s last night. As a matter of fact, you haven't been seen anywhere since the end of your shift on the bridge yesterday.” Rodimus watched Megatron’s stance change by the way the light changed beneath his door. "Open the door."

“Nah, I haven’t cleaned the place. You know like our Ready Room. I know how you love that mess. So might be best if you just take my shift and catch up with me later. Okay?” 

“Magnus has the bridge. I convinced him that an audit was long overdue before our quarterly reports were sent back to Cybertron. I have nowhere to be, and neither do you nor am I leaving until I’ve seen you myself. And do remember who I used to work with so any excuse you’re planning to give me will be seen for what it is, an attempt at avoidance. Do us both a favor, end this charade and open the door.” 

In his mind where his fantasies roamed free Rodimus imagined opening the door to a face filled with the concern he’d glimpsed during their recent conversations on the bridge. Where all their past melted away and Megatron would take care of him and protect him from the constant fear and pain that was becoming his life. The next thought was of the same mech enraged and striding towards him quickly. Of a rail gun on a newly formatted flight capable frame aimed for his spark. Of drifting in space wondering if he would be able to reach The Well so far away from home. 

All he wanted to do was curl up and hide until he woke up from what was quickly becoming a living nightmare. “Okay fine, you want the truth? The bridge is boring, and I don't want to get another lecture about responsibilities from two old farts. There, happy? Now go away.” 

“Rodimus, please?” That word was one he’d never thought he would hear coming from Megatron, the slag maker, Decepticon warlord, destroyer of worlds, a mech more feared than any in history. But he had heard it, and it came to him quietly, almost softly. Its rasp and timbre carrying it to his ear rather than the volume at which the words were spoken. “I am concerned for your safety. I merely wish to see that you are unharmed. Show me you are well, and I won’t darken your door any longer.” 

Rodimus sent the command for his door to unlatch, his lights to lower, and pulled his blanket higher on his frame. A large black hand curled around the garish flame painted metal pushing it open slowly. Light spilled in around Megatron from the bright hallways. When the light fell across his prone from Rodimus turned his face away so as not to see the expression of the other while silently damning Ultra Magnus and his lighting regulations. “There you saw me. I’m alive and kicking. So you can just go now.” 

“You should not cover such burns with a cloth that isn’t sterile.” Megatron’s finger hooked in a gap and pulled the blanket covering Rodimus. 

He hissed as the movement caused his burns to sting. “Yeah, I uh, leaned too close to a plasma coil, in the engine room. It made for a hell of a night but an even worse morning. It’s no big deal though. So, yeah, I’ll be seeing you. You can go now and tell Magnus I was being an aft again or something.” 

“We don’t have plasma coils in our engine room, and as I said you haven’t been seen about the ship since yesterday. Who did this to you?” 

“No one! I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was racing and flipped over. Skidded to a stop upside down. Tore a few layers off, I’ll be okay in no time.” Rodimus reached for his anger and instead found fear. 

Megatron stepped around the bed to face Rodimus. “First it was a hangover, then a nonexistent plasma coil, now a racing accident. I will not push for the how, as I already know what the whip's lash looks like, but I will push for the who. And I will ensure you are treated by Ratchet.” 

“No! No one can know. I’ll be okay. I always am. Just give me a few days to get back on my feet and I’ll be right as rain.” Rodimus tried to force himself upright but collapsed in a hiss of pain when the blanket pulled at his wounds.

Megatron crossed his arms and shifted his weight to stand hipshot. “Shall I call Ratchet to come and treat you here?” 

Rodimus eased himself back down, “You’re really not getting that whole ‘no one can know’ part, are you? Or is it that you just don’t care.” 

“Here or there Rodimus, but either way you will receive treatment.” Megatron raised his fingers slowly towards his temple; it wasn’t a necessary action for speaking over comms, but it gave a very visual sense of the implied threat. 

Rodimus reached for the other black hand but paused just short of the touch. “Please don’t. Please? I, just don’t want anyone to see, to know. I do hear what they say. This is only going to make it worse.” 

Megatron knelt down, so Rodimus didn’t have to twist his neck to look at him. “Then tell me, what would you have me do? You need to be treated. Your injury is severe Rodimus. I have felt the whip’s lash, have trended it on others. But this is beyond my skill.” 

Rodimus again reached for Megatron’s hand, memories of The Other’s words had him aborting his sought after contact. “I don’t know.” Rodimus turned away, tucking his head against his crossed forearms biting his lip until it bled to stifle his pained gasps. “Just do whatever. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.” He buried his face and hoped he would wake on the bridge with Magnus glaring at him for falling asleep on shift. 

A soft touch caressed his helm. “It does matter. And despite what you have suffered, your needs do matter. Ravage is in the security office now, very soon there will be rolling power outages across the ship. Ratchet will make his way here in the dark so that none will see him come or go. Is that acceptable?” 

Rodimus lifted his head to see this crimson eyes filled with concern again. His spark gave a pain filled throb that this was such a rare occurrence in his life. “If you think that’s best?” 

Another slow caress, “You need the care, and this will fit all the criteria you’ve laid out. No one will see as it will be dark, and no one will know as Ratchet has sworn medical oaths and coding. I will never speak of it as we share captain’s confidentiality so such information will be privileged. If you wish it, not even Magnus shall know?” 

Rodimus lay his head back down but held Megatron’s gaze. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because I have been where you are with no one to care for me. It is not something I wish on anyone, especially not someone to whom I owe so much.” Rodimus liked the small smile that crossed Megatron’s stern features. 

“You don’t owe me.” Rodimus turned his face away. He didn’t want this kindness if it came because Megatron felt beholden to him. 

The soft strokes continued along Rodimus' helm along the seam where it met his face; it paused momentarily when the dim lights of his room flickered out. “I do, more than you know little one.” A ghost of breath crossed his cheek, and a gossamer kiss followed behind it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Help has arrived no matter how reluctant Rodimus is to receive it.

The encompassing darkness persisted as they awaited Ratchet’s arrival. It along with the quiet weight of Megatron’s field and the knowledge that he was not alone was a soothing balm to Rodimus’ abused spark. It eased tensions his frame carried leaving a dull ache in their absence. The soft strokes to his helm would come and go as Megatron checked first on him then hallway for any signs of Ratchet. Rodimus’ systems slowed, soothed by the warmth of his bed and comfort of Megatron’s caring field. Rodimus welcomed the gray haze of this half awake state enjoying the fantasy that he was cared for, before allowing himself to fully succumb to the recharge his damaged frame so sorely needed. 

The concerned tone to Ratchet’s typically gruff voice pulled Rodimus slowly back to the waking world. “I need to get him to medical so that I can treat him properly.” A sigh had Rodimus peeking at look at the weathered CMO “This is bad. That burn on top of all his other injuries that haven’t been treated or didn't heal properly… He’s just a mess, inside and out.” 

“No Ratch, not moving. Can’t be seen.” Rodimus fought to push himself up. If decisions were being made about him, then he wanted to be a part of it. 

Ratchet’s hand settled on Rodimus' arm, urging him to lay back down. “Kid, you’re in bad shape. You’ve got let me treat you. And I think you know it even if you won’t admit it.”

Rodimus turned his head away from where the other two stood. His choices never matter. He wasn’t sure why he kept trying. They’d do what they wanted his feelings be damned. “I’m Fine.” 

The heavy footfalls of Megatron drawing near had Rodimus wishing he could fall back into the haze of almost recharge again where he’d forgotten about the world, and it had just been the two of them. As if called his vision filled with Megatron’s concerned face, “Rodimus, help me understand? Why you are fighting this?” That softly spoken rasp, those rough hands ghosting over his helm, along the unmarred top of his shoulder, warm hands atop his own. It was all so cruel to feel such concern when he knew the depth of it would not last. 

“He said I’m not supposed to cause trouble. Not supposed to miss shifts.” He let his helm fall to rest on top of the large black hand. 

“So what, kid? I mean yeah those things are nice, but it’s not like you’re missing right now on purpose. You’re hurt, badly. So stop stalling and let me help you.” 

“Fine!” Rodimus threw the blankets off and shoved until he forced himself upright. Anger and pain brought tears to his eyes. He fell more than landed on his feet. “Well? Let’s go then. We don’t have all day.” He staggered a step reaching for something to steady himself before he was caught by large black hands and held steady. “Let go of me Megatron.” Rodimus wanted to rage at the concern exuding from Megatron, but anguish stole his anger. 

“We only wish to help you Rodimus. Why won’t you let us?” 

Rodimus looked up into those crimson optics so filled with worry and concern for him what little remained of his strength broke. “He hates you, you know. He loses it when we spend time together, especially if we’re alone. Like this? This is going to make him go all Prowl and flip, well, more than tables.” He thunked his head against the board gray chest in front of him. “He’ll take this out on me. That’s why I can’t let you help. I don’t like what’s going on but I agreed to it, and he won’t let me back out of that agreement so… Yeah. You can’t help me. You shouldn’t even be here.” 

Rodimus curled his fingers into a fist, pressed himself harder against the large frame supporting him. He choked on his words but forced them out past the tightness in his throat. “I just don’t want to hurt anymore. I tried to be good, or better or whatever. To do what he wanted me to do, but it’s never enough.” His vision was dimming at the edge. Maybe standing up hadn’t been such a good idea. “So I guess if he’s just going to kick my aft again I might as well get all patched up beforehand, right?” 

“Rodimus?” Ratchet’s voice held a hint of softness that wasn’t often heard.

“Yeah, Ratchet?” Rodimus didn’t lift his head from where it lay against Megatron’s chest. It was easier to figure out if he was still standing up straight if he leaned against something. 

“Good night, kid,” Before Rodimus could ask what Ratchet meant there a sharp poke in his neck before he felt himself shutting down. 

His last thoughts were of being carefully lifted and hearing the faint “I have you” from Megatron so near.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being in a CR tank was always an experience in sensory deprivation. One most had come to enjoy during the war. 
> 
> Or at least it was until electricity jolted you awake.

Being in a CR tank was always an experience in sensory deprivation. One most had come to enjoy during the war. The gel held the patient in a form of weightlessness while the gasses provided through the mask kept the patient in that pain-free gray haze of the not quite awake dreamland. If spoken to most could respond, if they chose to, most took the chance to ensured safety to rest and relax deeply. All in all, it was a pleasant way to heal...

Or at least it was until electricity jolted you awake.

::Rodimus? You wouldn’t try to hide from me, would you?.:: A sharp surge of electrical current sent his vision fritzing and had limbs twitching. ::Not after everything we’ve shared. Not after all the up close and personal time we spent together. I thought we had something.:: That mockingly sweet voice crackled across his comms just before the harsh bite of electricity forced Rodimus still sore body to writhe. His searched the room quickly. Surely he’d not been left alone. But his search showed no one. They’d said he was injured severely, and Ratchet was renowned for his mother hen tendencies. They hadn't cared enough to stay. 

::Who are you looking for little Hot Rod? There's no one here but us. Your and I are all alone. Think I would come otherwise? You see, Magnus has had the bridge this whole time. He is asking all kinds of questions, so they went to, well not answer them because they don't want to admit you're being a burden. Again. Now they're trying to figure out how to help their little troublemaker. None of this would have happened if you'd just followed the rules.:: 

The forks of the prod ripped at his armor's cilia nerve connectors, protoform, and filaments as it was yanked free then shoved in between a different seam in Rodimus’ armor. ::You do remember our rules? No one can know what goes on between us.:: Another jolt shot through him arcing out from the contact point thanks to the conduciveness of the gel. ::Don’t miss shifts.:: A stronger shock had Rodimus writhing enough to slosh gel over the top of the CR tank. ::And stay away from _him_. I told you Megatron is trouble. You of all should know that, but you just won’t stay away. I tried to help you. Tried to keep you entertained enough that you would follow the rules, and be a good captain for your crew. But no, your stubborn aft just refused to listen.:: 

The current grew stronger the longer the other spoke. Rodimus couldn’t scream with the medical mask on, couldn’t call for help as the other always disabled his comms. Fear gripped him as he realized he how trapped, defenseless and alone he was. 

Red lights flashed through Rodimus was unsure if they were throughout the room of just the various warning that colored his heads up display. The other spat out a curse as he ripped the prod free from Rodimus’ armor. Rodimus breathed a sigh of relief for the momentary reprieve. It was short lived as a wire slithered its way down his behind his collar fairing. Again electricity jolted through him, and he opened he drew breath to scream until blackness consumed him.

~oOo~

Megatron watched him struggle. Rodimus didn't rest well most nights it seemed. He looked around checking once again that they were alone in medical. Slowly he reached out to stroke the planes and flares of the too warm helm. A muzzy blue gaze met his own. 

“You’re here?”

“I am.” Megatron made to pull his hand away, Rodimus’ hand pulling his back to his helm stopped his retreat. 

“…am glad. He won’t come around while you’re here. Stay long enough for me to get patched back up?” Megatron didn't get a chance to respond. Rodimus rolled to the edge of the medical berth, one arm curling around Megatron's nearby black knee guard, the other holding Megatron’s now pillowed hand in place beneath his helm. Rodimus systems settled, returning him to his much-needed recharge. 

Megatron sat quietly studying the face of his co-captain as he had for many hours now. Rodimus was handsome; that was undeniable. There was charisma; the personality ticks had proved something else that was undeniable though not encouraged. There was strength hidden behind the wild bravado. There was kindness too though it wasn't hidden as well. Rodimus was as ever changing as a newly formed planet. Just when one thought they knew him, another catastrophe or facet would change the entire picture. 

Megatron was so lost in his character study of his co-captain he didn't hear Ratchet approach. “If you hurt him I won’t wait for the Knights to pass judgment on you, or Optimus to change his mind about making you a martyr. I’ll kill you myself. And with the way luck runs on this ship it would far too easy to make it look like an accident.”

Megatron fought to hide that he’d startled when the other mech spoke, “I'll let the threat against your captain slide out of respect as for the rest you'll have be more clear in your warnings. It was not I in my former faction that had the ability to read minds.” 

“Don't try to play your head games with me. It won't work, or did you forget that I used to work with Senators and Emirates? They're better at lying than you could ever hope to be." Ratchet moved around the medical berth checking Rodimus vitals, untangling wires that had snagged on the points and edges of the flame-colored armor when the other had rolled to his current position. "I'm talking about Rodimus. You care for him.” 

Megatron pulled his hand from beneath the smaller mech’s helm. “I care for all my crew.” He sat back in his chair, careful not to dislodge the arm circling his knee guard, but giving himself as much distance as possible between himself and the focus of this uncomfortable conversation.

“Right.” Ratchet snorted his derision as he propped his hip against the side of the berth. “Of course you do. And I’m a monkey’s uncle. That kid has gone through more than enough slag for several lifetimes. And I won’t sit by and watch you add to it. So either cut him loose or step up and protect him like you swore to do to all those that needed a protector before your purpose went skewed." 

Crimson eyes took in the furrowed brow showing beneath the star colored helm. "We are not as close as you allude medic. My intrusion into his life would be just that, and is not my purpose upon this ship." 

"Primus below, you and Optimus really are too much alike. Rodimus needs someone to look out for him. He seeks it out. Probably wasn't nurtured like he should have been as a new spark or a product of being born when he was. Either way, he needs a stabilizing force around him. You told Optimus you wanted to make amends. Here's your chance. You can right the wrongs by helping Rodimus. The kid's a mountain of untapped potential; Matrix approved and all. But whatever you two end up doing just remember my shovel talk and that I was close with Optimus before he was Prime." Ratchet threw Megatron a pointed look before he walked away. Megatron gaze returned to the mech now curled more tightly around his knee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was half done when life threw me a small bit of crazy. I did what I could but I just can't look at it anymore so here it is.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to medical, a mini therapy session, an in-depth discussion on the qualities of a good blanket, and a bedtime story in the form of a report.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've turned a corner so to speak. There will be no more 'on screen' violence against Rodimus. If it does happen it will be off screen or mentioned as a form of recovery. But it might get so fluffy you need wading boots soon.

Megatron sat in the captain's chair going over the ships’ reports on his datapad, or at least that's what it looked like to the casual observer. There were reports there only they were mostly from Ravage. His summation of who could have this much access to Rodimus, what precautions could be taken to ensure his safety, lists of who on board had known Rodimus the longest. His comms buzzed to life pulling Megatron out of his thoughts. ::Megatron here.::

::I know who you are. I called you. Though I wish it wasn't necessary.:: Ratchet's snark always had a little more bite when he was concerned. 

::Is he still not resting?:: To whom they were referring didn't need to be said. This wasn't the first time Ratchet had called nor was the first time their observations had been shared. 

::Would you? Fragger got him while Rodimus was in a CR tank. The kid doesn't feel safe anywhere. Well, almost anywhere hence the call. So when you're done sitting in that throne you two lug nuts call a captain’s chair haul your aft down here so he'll get some rest.:: 

The walk to medical was too long and too short all at once. His mind swirling with thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone and circled around to take him nowhere. The doors sliding open to medical stilled those thoughts in a flash of flame-colored paint. Rodimus sat off to the side in the back of medbay; knees raised arms laying between fired knee guards looping around to hold themselves. Exhaustion lay on his smaller frame like the weight of the world. 

“Ratchet called you in again huh?” Rodimus reached for his bravado but found the reach exceeded his grasp. He uncurled leaning back against the wall, eyes searching the overhead lighting for something but falling close not finding it there. 

“You aren’t resting. He seems to be under the impression that I can help you do that somehow.” Megatron sat nearby. He studied Rodimus as if looking for secrets in his body posture. “Sedation not working?” 

Rodimus head lolled to look at him. “Nope, burn it off too fast. A side effect of being a fast frame I guess. Sucks boy let me tell you. Don't tell Ratchet but when I was with the Wreckers, sometimes it was easier just to let Springer clock me a good one and knock me out while they put me back together.”

“That hardly sounds like something you would like happening.” Megatron wasn't sure how to respond to that revelation.

“It's not. A misaligned jaw that’s been wired shut jaw really sucks when you're a motor mouth like me. But I’ve learned to live with pain. It’s like an unwelcome constant companion.” 

“About that. Why? Surely you know you don’t have to tolerate that treatment from a lover?” 

Rodimus cleared his throat gaze cutting to the side avoiding searching crimson optics. “So Rung, Ratchet and now you keep telling me. But it didn’t start out that way you know? It was fun and exciting. Some mystery lover who showed up and tripped all my breakers. It just seemed to get worse, and I didn’t know what to do or who to turn to or anything. I mean really it does sound sort of fantastical you know? ‘Hi, uh Mags? I have this mystery lover who’s kicking my aft in the worst ways. I can’t tell you who it is, I’ve never seen them or heard their real voice. I don’t know what they look like since, you know, I’ve never seen them, and I can’t tell you when they’ll pop up next, since, you know, we never talk outside of them just showing up in my room, and you know kicking me aft.’ See? Not really outside the realm of my usual Rodimus craziness, either way, they don’t show up so long as you’re around and they won’t come back in here because well Ratchet never leaves. Wow. So… Yeah, rambling much there Rodimus. Ugh.” 

Megatron fought his amusement at seeing the other captain facepalm. “You can’t stay in here forever. Have you thought about what you’ll do once and if Ratchet releases you?” 

A wry smile crossed Rodimus’ face as he reached for humor he didn’t truly feel. “No, maybe I’ll adopt yours and Ratchet’s workaholic habits and work myself into stasis or something. And don’t give me that look. I can feel you giving me that look.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Megatron adjusted his position to a more comfortable one hoping to feign nonchalance. 

“That poor-stupid-Hot-Rod-really-screwed-up-this-time look. It’s not like I plan for this stuff to happen. I mean yeah I do tend to fly by the seat of my pants a bit. Okay a lot, but I don’t plan for this to happen or to keep happening to me. And wow, it’s not even time for Rung, and here I am diving deep into therapy session spilling my guts type stuff. Ugh.” Rodimus buries his face in his hands. “Why can’t I keep my mouth shut around you.” 

“We all need someone to confide in. I’m glad I can be that for you.” Megatron hesitates for a moment before laying his hand across Rodimus’ shoulder strut. “If I can ease your burden in any way let me know.” 

Gold fingers part just enough for Rodimus to peek between them. “Read me some boring report so that I can fall asleep? Ratchet’s been after me to rest but every time I do memories of him there, but if you’re here for some reason they don’t bother me and I can sleep.” 

Megatron gave the younger mech an indulgent smile before pulling a few datapads out of his subspace. “Would you like to hear Ultra Magnus’ report on the state of the lighting within the ship? Or his assessment of infractions the crew has made against the Autobot code as or recent? Or maybe I read to you the latest complaints the crew has made against each other?”

“That all sounds wonderfully dull.” Rodimus settled himself in waiting for the sound of Megatron’s voice to lull him to his rest. A paragraph or two, maybe four in Rodimus had lost count, and he began to twitch. “Sorry to interrupt but is there any way you can scoot closer? I think, maybe, I need to feel your field or something? I don’t know. I’m tried. I’m comfortable, but I just can’t fall off to sleep.” 

Megatron scooted closer his field extending to reach the other. “Better?” 

“Yeah? I think. I don’t know. Maybe?” Rodimus began to fidget. “Something’s not right, like missing or something.”

“Where is the blanket you were curled in when you were brought in? If you are used to sleeping that way it might be the thing you are missing.” 

“Ratchet took it. I think he burned it. I bled all over it, so it was sort of ruined.” Rodimus looked like a sparkling that had been denied their favorite treat. 

“Do you have others? I could get one for you.” Megatron gathered himself to stand if Rodimus gave him the go-ahead. 

A long sigh and a scratching at some unseen mark on the medical berth. “No, I’ve had that one a long time. I got it from some vendor on Earth that specialized in Cybertronian sized things. But because of the amount of materials to make them each blanket was one of a kind. I guess I could ask Ratchet for a few medical blankets, but those things are never really warm. You need like 50 to hold in any heat.” 

“So you like your blankets to be warm, and weighted?” Megatron mentally took notes as he shot a message to Ravage. 

“Yeah, I guess so? It’s like a feeling of security or safety or something. I don’t know.” A large yawn stole Rodimus’ voice. 

“Would you be opposed to my trying something that might help you sleep?” 

Rodimus shot him a sidelong glance. “I guess not? I mean I kind of owe you so no?” 

“You owe me nothing. It was just a thought really. A small thing that might help you rest deeply enough that you can heal quickly.” As he spoke Megatron stood retrieving the few blankets in the nearby cabinet before returning. He slowly unfolded them covering Rodimus in them as best he could before returning to his seat by Rodimus’ head, lifting the datapad to begin reading again and extending his field to add its layer to those ensconcing Rodimus. “Better or are you still missing your blanket’s weight?

“It’s better, but yeah I still miss the weight and the softness. I love soft, cozy things. Didn’t have them growing up, I’m a sucker for them now.” Again a yawn stopped him. “But this is not bad.” 

“I have one more idea if you’d indulge me a bit?” 

That skeptical look returned to Rodimus gaze. “Sure, I guess. Just don’t hurt me alright?” 

“This shouldn’t cause you pain, though if it does, I do expect you to tell me immediately.” Slowly Megatron began long soothing strokes to Rodimus helm. Fingers traced the edges of ridges, along audials, tracing out the seam where helm met crest. Then quietly Megatron began reading again. Rodimus didn’t focus on the subject matter, just the sounds of the words as the rolled off Megatron’s tongue. The timbre, tone and rasp of that voice as it drew him into the quiet sanctuary of deep restfulness. Where angry voices and hate filled words couldn’t reach him but one soft voice never seemed to leave him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron's visits to medical continue. Rodimus continues to heal. And the moon draws closer to the sun.

Megatron’s visits continued to Medical. At first, it was a matter of Ratchet comm-ing him with pseudo-medical updates on their patient’s condition. ::Am I going to have to do this every single time or are you just trying to see which one of us is more stubborn?. News flash _Captain._ It’s me. I’ll win this. So do us both a favor stop this by admitting defeat gracefully. Just start showing up here without being told to do so every single time like some overgrown hatchling.:: 

Ratchet would smirk at him when he turned up, give him Rodimus’ care instructions, and leave them alone. Today was checking Rodimus protoform, rubbing nanite gel on the affected areas, and trying to get Rodimus to talk. Rodimus wasn’t giving Rung much in the way of answers and Ratchet thought Megatron should put his silver tongue to work in helping his co-captain out by getting him to talk. 

At first, their banter consisted of nonsensical things. The latest gossip on the ship. Megatron was not nearly as good as Rodimus at keeping up on that, but Rodimus listened and commented when Megatron would talk about ship’s business. Rodimus would ask him the how’s and why’s of individual decisions until Megatron asked, “Is this what Magnus and I must do to get you to pay attention during meetings?” 

“What beat me into submission?” Rodimus attempted a wry reply, but it came across subdued and haunted. 

“No Rodimus, not that, I meant immobility and massages.” Megatron paused momentarily.

“Yeah well the massages I wouldn't mind, but immobility wasn’t a whole lot of fun when I tried it with, well, before.” 

“It can be if it’s done right. However, I don’t think that relationship is a sound basis for comparison.” Megatron’s voice and his field full of comfort and warmth. 

“Maybe, I don’t really have many to base anything off of, good or bad. They were all the quick and dirty kind, or I had other things going on, trying not to get killed, being lectured for being reckless. You know typical Rodimus behavior.” He signed and lapsed into silence. Megatron continued his ministrations to the healing speedster's still ravaged protoform. 

“I, uh, liked the idea of being taken care of, that’s why I stayed in that not-really-a-relationship thing.” He sat slumped with is back to Megatron so that the larger mech could rub the nanite gel into the various substructures of Rodimus' back. “I don't like being alone, and well they were offering. I didn’t know it would turn out like it did or that I’d end up here. I just... I thought if I could do what they asked it would get better. It just never did. I don't know. Maybe I'm just designed wrong or something. Like I just can't be good or am doomed to self-sabotage or something.” 

Megatron never paused his massaging nor did he raise his voice above the hushed tones Rodimus seemed to favor. “There are over two hundred souls aboard this ship, surely any number of them is a better choice for you to spend time with.” 

“Yeah, no. Close to half of the crew voted to replace me as captain so probably not.” Rodimus slouched more and spread the gaps in his internal components. If you haven't noticed, I'm kind of lousy at being a mature, responsible adult.”

“You don't say? I never noticed.” The teasing lilt in Megatron’s voice easy to hear. 

“Jerk,” Rodimus twitched one side of his spoiler then hissed a breath as pain shot through the connectors beneath. 

“Hurts still?” Megatron laid a warm hand on top of the separation in the body part. “Or is it deeper within that you are damaged as well?” 

“Yeah, Ratchet said it would only take a day or two in the CR tank to heal all that but after what happened I just can’t.”

“Understandable, is there a way that you might feel comfortable to enough to try again?” Megatron resumed the methodical massaging of the gel along Rodimus’ back.

Rodimus drew breath to speak, but no words were forthcoming. He gave Megatron several curious glances over his shoulder though to explanation followed. 

Megatron never lifted his gaze from the slow circles he was making on Rodimus' ruined back. “Speak as you will Rodimus. You'll hear no judgment from me.” 

Rodimus heaved a deep breath his fingers gripped the edge of the medical berth tightly before he spoke, “I think I could try if maybe you stayed.”

“Stayed?” The circles never ceased, never slowed, same slow, methodical movements soothing the twitchy speedster. 

If it was possible Rodimus slumped further before mumbling “Nevermind.”

“If you truly want to change the topic of conversation, then we will. However, I think you misunderstand me. I was seeking clarification to your request. You wish me to stay, how? Here with you, while you’re in the CR chamber? What exactly do you need of me?” 

Rodimus turned his optics off and shuttered them tight; his mind whirled with a million thoughts that all circled around to the one that was at the heart of his request. One he wouldn’t dare give voice to, but it burned within him hotter than any flame he had endured or produced. _Stay with me. Always._ “It’s nothing. I just thought since you know, He doesn’t come around when you’re around. That if you were here he’d leave me alone in CR chamber and I could you know, get better. So then I wouldn’t be taking up so much of your time and stuff.” Rodimus froze, replaying in his mind all that he'd rambled and hoped against hope that it had gone unheard. 

“I think that can be arranged. I may have to step out occasionally, but I will only do so while Ratchet can remain with you. If that is acceptable to you?” Megatron didn’t sound begrudged in any way; maybe it was just that he had more patience than most Rodimus was used to. Rodimus told himself to make a point not to become too needy. He liked what they had and didn't want to lose it. Megatron's dark timbre drew Rodimus from his thoughts. “For now, though, I think you should rest. I’ve brought along a book that I’ve been interested in reading. If you’d like, I can read it aloud, and we can share it? If you're amenable to the idea, maybe we could discuss it? I'd be interested to hear your thoughts.” 

Shock at his almost confession still held Rodimus’ tongue, so he nodded his head in reply. 

“Very well. Megatron grabbed the medical blanket folded at the foot of Rodimus’ bed and shook it out. “Lay down, and I’ll cover you, so you don’t get this stuck in the gel.” He waited for Rodimus to lay down and get comfortable before he carefully draped the course cloth along the smaller mech’s frame leaving it loose around the still sticky nanite gel. “There now,” Megatron powered on the book file. “It’s called _A History Of the World Before_.” 

“Ugh, that sounds boring. Don’t you have anything less dusty?” Rodimus said, though his comment held no real bite. He had grown to enjoy their nightly routine. At some point, while he slept Ratchet would return, and Megatron would leave. Rodimus, with the aid of a berth warmer, weighted blanket, and the sound of Megatron's voice would be lulled into a restful place where he was cared for and safe. 

Megatron checked all the setting on Rodimus medical berth one last time before he leaned back against the wall. “If you have a request let me know, and I’ll see if it’s available otherwise Little One be quiet and rest.” He field was warm and teasing against Rodimus' which was rough and wavering. 

“Yes dear,” came the flame-colored mech's reply, it probably would have sounded more teasing if Rodimus had managed to keep the yawn from breaking his voice mid-sentence. Any other verbal jabs died on his tongue when Megatron’s large hand began stroking the angles and flares along his helm. 

“Shhh Rodimus, rest.” He didn’t attempt to argue, just silently let the darkness of recharge claim him as he slipped away to dreams of raspy voices and less lonely nights. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Harutemu for being my sounding board.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The voice in the darkness can hurt as much than any blaster, sometimes worse. Rodimus gets a visit he didn't want, and one he hopes will never leave him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised there is no on-screen violence, but the other does throw some hurtful accusations at Rodimus in the first few paragraphs.

“I see you~” The words brushed his mind like the wing of an owl in flight. A soft barely there sound that was death on the wind. It jolted Rodimus awake and ripped open the wounds in both body and mind. Thin barely there scabs that would have become scars now oozed and bled with memories of pain-filled nights and agony inducing whispers. In a panic, he reached for the mech that had become his stability, but Rodimus found himself alone in the darkness of medbay. His first thought was to reach for his comms, but those were part of the internals that had yet to heal, being low on the priority list since he was in medical and under surveillance. He wondered if he should call out, but the voice of the other stilled his thoughts. “They’ve all left you,” the voice called from somewhere in the darkness. “Poor little Rodimus is all alone again.” The voice seemed to be moving about the room, bouncing off the walls and echoing from corners. “They’ve grown tired of how needy you’ve become.” A voice that cruel shouldn’t have such a gleeful sing-song quality to it yet the other seemed to derive pleasure from his pain.

“You’re wrong,” but Rodimus’ words lacked any confidence.

“Am I? Then where are your protectors? Why have they left you alone, especially when you just asked him not to? It was sweet watching you swoon and fawn over him. Think he knows? Think he can’t see that giant crush you have on him? Maybe that’s why he left.” The words continued, each one finding their mark. Cutting deeper, ripping him open, wounding him in a million invisible ways. Rodimus curled his body tighter, back against the wall despite the pain it caused. _Minimize the impact area. Cover the critical places. Make yourself as small as possible._ All were tactics any youngling that grew up in a war zone knew, but none seemed to help now. Not that it helped under this kind of relentless attack.

* * *

 

Megatron gave the doors into Medbay a scathing look as they hissed open. He did his best to soften his heavy footfalls but gave up the pretense when he noticed an awake and alert Rodimus sitting in a tight curl on his bed. “I didn’t expect you up so soon." His co-captain's haunted look changed his next question. "Is there anything the matter?”

Rodimus looked around at the sound of Megatron’s voice. “Bad dreams or hacked comms or something. He woke me up, probably not long after you left.” Rodimus didn’t mean to sound angry or hurt, but he was too exhausted to keep it from his voice. “Where did you go?” _You said you’d stay and you didn't_  was left unspoken.

Megatron produced two cubes and a small package of rust sticks from his subspace. “I thought I would gather our breakfast and I had an appointment to collect your surprise. I apologize for not being here when you woke. You had been resting so peacefully I didn’t think I would be missed.”

With shaking hands, Rodimus reached for a rust stick, but dropped them in his lap after the first attempt to close his trembling fingers around one failed. “He was everywhere. Or at least his voice was. Bouncing around the room like there were eight, then eighteen, then eighty of him all saying things to me at once. I... This is... never going to end is it?”

“All things end, Rodimus.” Megatron dragged a rust stick along the bridge of Rodimus nose before taking the smaller mech's hand and closing it around the treat. “Even those things we wish would not.”

Rodimus flared and settled his armor then cringed and bit his lip harshly. "Keep forgetting that moving hurts.” He huffs a small laugh. “Doing everything but sleeping hurts right now, but I seriously doubt I'll be able to do that again anytime soon.”

Megatron bit off a small piece of one of the rust sticks. “No, I'd imagine not, and I doubt my telling you that I won't leave again would help?”

Rodimus clenched one side of his face twisting his helm in a little cringe “Probably not, sorry. I mean I appreciate you staying with me it's just...” He couldn’t finish that, saying it would make it too real. They lapsed into silence. Rodimus picked pieces off of his rust stick, while Megatron swirled his drink. Rodimus got lost in his thoughts occasionally sighing when that voice returned to taunt him.

“Shall we abscond away then?” Rodimus wasn't sure he'd actually heard Megatron speak or if that voice was one he wanted to hear in hopes it would drown out the others. Silence, he thought, was his best option. He would have remained lost in himself had a black hand not tipped his face up to meet Megatron's gaze. “I don’t think you heard me. I asked if you would like to go somewhere else, or would you rather remain here? Ratchet will rain hellfire and brimstone down on our heads once he catches us but you need to rest and if you cannot rest here then logic says we must away.”

Rodimus mind swam, he could see the fine scratches on Megatron’s optical lenses. He could almost feel the vibration of that deep voice with its hushed but mischievous lift and powerful industrial engine thrumming through him. It was intoxicating being this close to Megatron. It always was. This mech who had laid waste to anything that stood before him so tender and focused solely on him made Rodimus ache in ways that nothing to do with his recovery, but Rodimus was still so raw, and hope could be a powerful and terrible thing. “What did you have in mind?”

The larger mech eased away some, “Nothing much, a change of scenery perhaps? Though if you are unwilling then there are other options open to us that might help you rest. The choice, as always, is yours.”

Rodimus searched Megatron’s eyes for what he wasn’t sure, a lie maybe, or a hidden truth, but the slight smile on the other’s face, and the hint of mischievousness in Megatron’s field gave Rodimus just enough courage that he was willing to swallow his fear and speak. “I can’t walk or, well, do much but sure. What’ve you got in mind?”

“You need to rest, something which you say you will be unable to do here. So I propose we go elsewhere, at least for a little while to let you rest. We shall have to return before Ratchet is due, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Do you have anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”

His first thoughts were _away_ and _anywhere, but here,_ instead he said quietly, “No.”

Megatron studied him for a moment. “Will you trust me?”

Rodimus surprised himself with how quickly he answered, and with what his answer was, “Yes.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversation and revelations are had in the CR tank.

In hindsight, Rodimus would say their night away from medical was the kind that was good for the soul. They laughed, they talked, he didn’t worry about voices in the dark, or things that might come to pass when he was released. It was peaceful. It was restful. It was nice. And it came to an abrupt end because of course they were discovered. 

Ratchet fumed at them as they made their way back to medical. The medic’s fiery temper on full display. Megatron looked unfazed, Rodimus was the picture of downtrodden. He didn’t fight when Ratchet moved him from the hover chair back to his bed. He didn’t complain or fidget when Ratchet checked him over to see if they had reopened wounds or stressed any welds. Rodimus sat quietly while Ratchet spoke to him softly nodding his head in understanding at the medic’s words spoken too softly for Megatron to hear. Rodimus didn’t sigh or voice a complaint when Ratchet had him lay down and plugged various machines back into him. There was no apprehension as medicine was injected into his lines that would force him offline. And all the while Megatron watched from a respectful distance away. 

“He’s going back in the tank tomorrow. You can be here or not, but he needs to get better. So you need to make a decision. Are you in or out?” Ratchet stood there and not for the first time did Megatron understand how Ratchet had gained his fearsome reputation or that he had been one of the few to force Optimus’ hand and win, repeatedly. 

“I beg pardon, but am I in or out of what? The CR tank?” Despite knowing how Ratchet was not the mech to mess with when he was angry it was still sometimes fun to do.

“Don’t play dumb with me no matter how much I think it suits you. Rodimus. Whatever you’re doing with that kid he listens to you or at least he does now. He’s leaning on you for whatever it is he needs emotionally. So I want to know are you in or out. Because if you’re in this is going to be extremely hard on him. If you're out, then don't come back and I’ll delay putting him in the tank a few days. But I expect an answer, and you’re going to give it to me.” 

“I am not in the habit of abandoning those in my care.” 

"Good.”

~oOo~

Rodimus twitched in the CR tank as he lingered in the border between awake and a nearby dream. Memories of a whispered of voice at the edge of his mind and a field that never left his own. A calm, confident timbre that read words he couldn’t hear but didn’t want to miss.

[Rest Rodimus. You are safe. I am here.] The text scrolled across his internal display lifting the tightness of apprehension that had settled firmly in the back of his mind. Rodimus' armor loosened slowly the gaps allowing more nanites rice gel to swirl into the depth of his frame. 

[Read to me?] Rodimus was glad apprehension couldn’t be conveyed through text. [I’ve gotten used to falling asleep to your voice.] At Megatron’s cutting look he tried to expound. [No I mean… I'm not saying you’re boring. I mean you can be boring, but that wasn’t what I meant this time. Stop laughing at me you old rust bucket.] Megatron’s shoulders began to shake more at that, though Rodimus couldn’t hear the actual sound. 

Megatron cut Rodimus a look. [I understood your meaning Rodimus. I’m not offended. Though I’m unsure as to how you will be able to hear my voice.] 

[You could jack in? I mean I know it’s kind of intimate but my comms are still showing offline and, well... Nevermind it was just a thought.] Rodimus closed his eyes to avoid seeing the inevitable incoming rejection. 

A moment later the first brush of fingers along the top of his helm drew Rodimus out of himself. Megatron's continued strokes soothed him. It was a simple touch, one he enjoyed falling asleep to, [It is your call Rodimus. How shall we go about this?] Those words felt like a lifeline inside a dream. Rodimus slowly pitched his head forward opening the port at the base of his helm. The hand stroking his helm moved slowly towards the open port. [Are you sure? If you’d rather I can hold on to your hand and we can exchange cables at our wrists.] 

Rodimus tilted his head back opening his eyes to look up at Megatron laying on the walkway surrounding his CR tank nodding slowly. There were many things he hated about being in the CR tank. However, right now he was grateful the mask covered so much of his face that his blush wouldn't be easily visible; he was thankful the gel was so thick it would hide the trembling in his frame. He was glad beyond measure that the text message would hide his sure to be trembling voice. [I’m sure, besides this port is closest to you.] Rodimus rationalized hoping Megatron couldn’t see through him. [And I don't know if I could lift my hand, the tank’s kind of tight and my shoulder is still sore and…]

[It is your choice Rodimus. If that is your wish, I will abide by it.]

Rodimus was glad for this but wished that he wasn't trapped in this tank. He wanted to hear that calm raspy voice rumble through him as Megatron spoke with him or read to him it eased his troubled mind and sooth his troubled spark. Once Megatron's connector slid home, and their handshake protocols initiated Rodimus quickly hid his thoughts. ::What shall I read to you tonight?::

Thoughts of _anything, everything, I just want to hear your voice and know I'm not alone,_ came quickly but he shifted them aside. Instead, he remembered the sight of Megatron's reaction to something he'd been reading earlier came to mind. :You were reading something that made you smile. What was it?:

::A report about an incident at Swerve’s not something you would find interesting.:: 

::If it made your stoic aft crack a smile, it has to be good. Right? So why don't you try me.:: No, it wasn’t Rodimus first choice, but the report was most likely written by Ultra Magnus so it would be long which meant Megatron would be reading in that low timbre of his for awhile. The report was about an incident at Swerve’s. Apparently, Brainstorm thought Swerve’s latest nightly drink special needed a little something. The additive he chose for that particular drink’s tank cause the whole lot of it to turn into one giant foam explosion leaving Tailgate, Rewind and Swerve himself stuck to the ceiling of the bar for several hours while Perceptor concocted a solution to the problem. The mental image was enough to make Rodimus shake with silent laughter inside tank sloshing the nanite mixture onto the floor. 

::Shush Rodimus, Ratchet will be none too pleased with us if you make a mess in his medbay.:: Megatron scolded. 

::Sorry it’s just… That’s funny.:: 

::Not to those involved.:: Though Megatron’s tone implied, he agreed. 

::You’re right. I know you’re right. It’s just I didn’t think a report could be that interesting. I have a hard time reading them, especially the ones written by Magnus.::

::You have no focus, not everything you read must be an adventure novel or information on the next meteor surfing competition.:: Dark fingers rubbed at the back of Rodimus’ helm where they were connected. 

::No, I know that. It’s just that I have a hard time reading things sometimes. It’s like the words or letters in the words move, and they start not to make any sense. I mean I can read them. I just need to be alone, in a quiet room, with no interruptions and no time limits because sometimes I have to read them a couple of time to get it all lined up right in my head. I know that doesn’t make any sense at all, but it’s the way I’m wired I guess. So I found it was just easier to act like I was bored until Magnus got frustrated enough to tell me what it said.::

::Do you comprehend things better if they are read to you?:: 

Rodimus bet if he were able to look Megatron would be stroking his chin. It was something he noticed the ex-warlord did if he were thinking things through. ::Yeah? But it’s not like anyone’s ever got the time to do that. And I can read things, just like reports take longer because they’re written in the driest form possible.::

::Let’s try something shall we? I will read you another report. One not so… lively and you give me your opinion on it?::

::I guess. I mean it’s not like I can go anywhere. Captive audience and all.:: Rodimus wanted to fidget, but the small tank with all his kibble and Megatron being connected as they were removed that option. He was not looking forward to disappointing someone he’d come to lean on so heavily. Rodimus didn’t want to damage whatever this thing was that they were building. And it happened every time he disappointed someone. Optimus, Kup, Ultra Magnus he had seen that look on their faces as he failed to live up to their perceived standards for him. 

This report detailed the attempts to remove the sparkeater carcass from their engine to make the ship more efficient. ::What if they used some of Brainstorm’s scaled down quantum technology to make a bubble around themselves and pull it out? Either at our next jump or without if that would work? I mean if they haven’t tried that already?::

Megatron gave no response. Rodimus wanted to curl in on himself the longer he heard nothing from the other side of their connection. It was a saving grace that connected as they were he couldn’t look up and see that dreaded look in those crimson optics. ::They haven’t tried that. And while your idea is a little simplistic both Perceptor and Brainstorm agree is has merit and is worth looking into.::

::It does? Wait they agreed?:: Those fingers stroked the base of his helm. The slow caresses were calming his nervous mind. 

::They did. You are far more intelligent than you give yourself credit for, I cannot see why you hide that from others or let them believe you to be less than you are.::

::Because it’s just easier? I mean if they don’t expect much then they’re never disappointed.:: 

There was no reply, no words sent via comms or HUD text, even the slow slid of Megatron’s hand along Rodimus’ helm ceased. His spark stilled in his chest. He was glad he couldn’t look up and see Megatron’s face. Speaking so negatively about himself had never gone well, it was one of the many reasons he held to his party boy persona so tightly. Fake it till you make it, as he’d once heard someone say. ::Did you fall asleep up there? Don’t we have more reports to get through?::

Slowly the warm slide of fingers along his helm began again. Slowly his spark started spinning again, and slowly they returned to the reports. Megatron read them, they would discuss them to an agreed upon conclusion and so on it went until finally, Rodimus succumbed to sleep. 

Megatron disconnected from his co-captain withdrawing everything from the tank except his field which he kept intertwined at the edge of Rodimus’ own. He had no wish to invade the privacy of Rodimus dreams, nor did he want to shock his co-captain further if the younger mech awakened to find someone else in his mind. But as he sat watching Rodimus twitch and shift in the tank one thought kept returning to the forefront of Megatron’s mind. It made his spark ache that someone so bright had adopted such a facade to buffer himself from the world. Megatron didn’t like the hurt he’d felt in Rodimus when they’d discussed his past. And while he knew Rodimus to be a capable warrior, strong in will and spark, something inside Megatron that had not been touched in a long time made him desperately want to protect and care for Rodimus. He was sure any offer or gesture he made to do so would be rejected, so he would have to settle for befriending the younger captain and maybe just maybe he would be allowed to offer guidance that might help ease the burden the other chose to carry that bore him down.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Echoes of a painful past are never closer than when things are going well.

Megatron easily lifted Rodimus from the tank. It wasn’t the standard procedure, but he was there, and it was easier than hauling over the harness, waiting for Rodimus to work his way into it confined as he was within the tight space, then lift him from the tank before settling him on the platform above to dry off. Remove the wet harness. Besides, it was reassuring to feel weight returning to Rodimus frame. He had lost too much weight during his ordeal with the other. 

“You know I am capable of drying myself off.” Rodimus tried for snark, but his words held more sass than fire. 

Megatron smirked at Rodimus before he released his grip and stepped back. "As you wish." Rodimus quirked his brow at the other mech before a look of alarm crossed his face as he started to fall. Silver arms caught him quickly and held him close as Megatron bent to sit on the platform. He settled Rodimus across his folded legs before he reached for a nearby towel and once again helped wipe the nanite gel from his co-captain’s frame. “Yes, under normal circumstances you are. However being suspended as you were for as long as you have been has weakened your limbs and left them unused to taking your weight. Allow yourself time to recover then you will have your independence once more.”

“Oh fun,” His words dripped with sarcasm then shifted to frustration. "I know recovery takes as long as it takes but I wish it wouldn't take so long. I'm tired of being a burden.” 

Megatron moved various parts of Rodimus’ body as he wiped last bits of the gel away. “You’ve hardly been a burden. And we’ve managed to get through quite a lot of our backlogged reports.” Megatron stood while cradling Rodimus in his arms and made his way down the stairs along the side of the tank. “If you’d like we can continue working together once you’re discharged. I find that I like reading the reports aloud and since it helps you as well, we might as well combine our efforts.”

“Aw Megs am I growing on you?” Rodimus hated the words as soon as they left his mouth. 

“Hardly, though now that I think on it, perhaps like a space barnacle, but if this will keep Ultra Magnus from asking me multiple times an hour about daily paperwork, then I suppose I can deign to be in your presence in service of my sanity.” 

“Wait, was that a joke?” Rodimus asked after seeing the edges of Megatron’s mouth tick up a beat and feeling the quick brush of reassurance along his field. “Are you trying to joke with me? You’d be lucky if I let you hang around me. I’m a hot commodity I’ll have you know.” 

“Oh yes, so I’ve heard you boast. Repeatedly and loudly to anyone who will listen.” 

Rules that Rodimus never seemed to follow and that flowed from a voice he never seemed to please came to mind. The anger and his inability to abide the simplest instructions, or at his breaking of the smallest of rules had him silent and shaking the Megatron’s arms. “I don’t mean to be. I don’t even always like the attention. I just… He who laughs loudest cries hardest or something like that.” 

As they made their way to the medbay showers, Megatron watched as Rodimus again fell silent, became distant. He flinched at the slightest touch and moved as far away as possible within the confines of the small space. The usually verbose mech spoke when spoken to and with as few words a possible. Once thoroughly cleaned and dried Megatron went to Rodimus again but stopped when he noticed the closed off body language. “Would you like to try walking? I can assist you if you’d like?” 

Rodimus’ distant blank eyes never met Megatron’s gaze, and Rodimus staggered forward. “I can do it.” By the time they reached Rodimus private room at the back of medical the flame-colored mech was shaking and panting but still lost in his own mind. Rodimus stumbled forward hoping to make it to the berth, but strong arms lifted him again. “I’m sorry. I tried.” 

“You did. And you did very well. Such determination should be rewarded, don’t you think?” Megatron lifted Rodimus again, fitting the smaller mech across his lap once they were settled on the berth. “I have a gift for you. I had planned to give it to you once you were discharged from Ratchet’s care but I think it would be better if I gave it to you now.” 

Had Rodimus not been lost in the echoes of the other’s angry voice he would have noticed the package laid in his lap. “Sure, if that’s what you want.” 

Megatron tipped Rodimus head up, “Rodimus look at me.” He waited for the unfocused blue gaze to finally find his own. “I’d like you to open your gift, though you’re under no obligation to accept it. I happened to notice yours was stained beyond saving when we brought you in so I thought this might be an acceptable replacement.” 

Slowly Rodimus shifted to sit up in Megatron’s lap. Shaking hands gently pulled at the ribbon holding the fabric together. Trembling as he was Rodimus found it difficult to unfold the bundle. It was incredibly soft, with a layer of thick plush material on one side, it was a pale blue with a slight shimmer on opposite side. It was a beautiful and no doubt expensive gift so it couldn’t possibly be for him, though when he checked his audials, they were working correctly. “Why?”

“Do you not like it?” Who knew that gravelly voice could be so gentle. 

“I do,” he couldn’t keep his hands from tangling in the masses of fabric enjoying the weight and texture. “I don’t know what to say.” Rodimus stopped talking when his throat felt tight. “Is it rude to ask why you did this for me? I mean thank you of course, but I don’t understand why?”

Megatron leaned back against the wall; he pulled Rodimus to lay against him taking the blanket and tucking it around them. “Let’s call it appreciation shall we and leave it at that. Now as I don’t think you’ll be awake much longer how about we skip the reports tonight and I read you something else?” Megatron waited for a reply, but none came. “Asleep already I see.” He whispered into Rodimus’ head lips ghosting softly atop the ridges of his helm. Megatron took out a fictional recounting of the lives and history of the original Thirteen Primes and began to read aloud.

Except Rodimus wasn’t asleep. He sat quietly curled against Megatron’s large frame listening to the sounds of the raspy voice and cried for the beautiful gift he’d been given, the praise he’d received, and the care that had been taken with him. He cried for the silent offers of support, for the safety he’d been given, and for the fact that when he was fully recovered, it would all come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you DinobotGlitch for beta-ing this.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus gets released, but where to go on a ship that isn't safe?
> 
> Another talk leads to more revelations. 
> 
> Some given by someone half awake.

“You're free to go.” Ratchet said rounding the corner into Rodimus’ room. 

"Who is?" Rodimus woke from his light doze, auto repair systems working overtime made him perpetually sleepy. 

"You are." Ratchet didn't look up from the reports he was signing.

“Go where?” Rodimus wasn't sure what Ratchet was talking about, surely he'd missed something in his half awake state.

“Out of here, kid. All that time, you spent in the CR tank you're as healed as I can get you, so you're free to go. I’d still like you to see Rung, though. He can help with the stuff I can’t.” Ratchet leaned his hip against the side of Rodimus' medical berth. “Unless there’s some other problem?”

“No problems Ratchet. Just happened faster than I thought it would is all.” Rodimus fingers twisted together in an attempt to tie themselves in knots. 

Ratchet placed the medical pad down, crossed his arms over his chest, as he studied Rodimus. “You sure about that? For someone that griped at me daily about being stuck in here and how boring it was, you sure don’t look like there are _no problems_.” 

The speedster jumped off his bed and flashed Ratchet his trademark grin. “Nope, nothing’s wrong, nothing at all. Thanks for the help and hospitality Ratch. See ya when I see you.” Rodimus flipped a salute, and a wink at Ratchet then strode from medbay. 

He stopped at the next junction in the hallway completely unsure of what to do with himself. Go right, and he could report to the bridge. Tell them he was released and could be added to the schedule again like a good little soldier. Go left, and he could go the habsuites or the recreational areas. It was towards the end of the first shift, so Swerve’s would open. That meant he wouldn’t have to be alone, but he wasn’t really up for all the questions and accusations right now. Not to mention drinking himself into a stupor didn’t hold the same appeal it once had. Also, he didn’t know who or where his ex- _not_ -lover was likely to be so going somewhere that had been the cause of more than a few of their _discipline_ sessions wasn’t exactly high on his list. 

Right, it was. 

The to the bridge slid open, so of course, everyone on duty turned to look. Rodimus offered a small wave and quiet “Hi” as he stepped onto the bridge. He hadn’t expected to see Megatron there, though since the larger mech hadn't been in medical with him, it must have been his shift as captain. 

Megatron stepped closer to Rodimus. His larger size cast his co-captain in his shadow and shielded him from the prying eyes of rest of the bridge crew. “Are you well? Ratchet’s report just came through, so I know you were released. But you look out of sorts rather than the relieved I expected you’d be?” 

Megatron’s field, his closeness, the hushed timbre of his voice, helped ease some of the anxiety that had gnawed at Rodimus since Ratchet had released him. “Yeah, just thought I should report for duty, but since I don’t have a commanding officer I figured I should come here?”

Megatron looked at him for a long moment. Rodimus tried to give his usual overly confident smile as he fought to hold Megatron’s gaze. He even managed it for a few seconds, but it was as if Megatron could see through him. Rodimus was sure if Megatron looked too close he wouldn’t like what he saw. So he thought it best not to hold that gaze and see the concerned look turn into one of pity. “I can go and come back later when Magnus is here. He still handles the duty roster right?” 

“He normally does, though in your absence Thunderclash has stepped up taken more of the mundane duties upon himself. He is in the office now if you wish to let him know you are ready for duty.” Megatron stepped back to allow Rodimus room to pass, but Rodimus made no moves to do so. 

“Yeah, I guess I should…” but he felt rooted to the spot. The last thing he wanted to do was face Thunderclash. That mech was a glaring example of how off the mark Rodimus was compared to what an ideal Autobot leader should be. It was infuriating, and that overly cheerful, too perfect charisma was not something Rodimus felt he had the strength to endure at the moment. “Or maybe I could help here? If you need me that is?” 

Megatron looked over Rodimus' finally healed form as if would reveal some explanation as to what Rodimus was not saying. “You are of course welcome to stay, it is, after all, your ship.” He turned back to the bridge continuing their preparations for their next jump.

Rodimus remained in Megatron's shadow for most of their shift. Standing slightly behind or just to the side of Megatron. Occasionally unsure gold fingers reached out to softly trace along the kibble of his back, but only when Megatron stood close enough for them not to be easily seen or evidently when Rodimus had determined no one was looking. Megatron arched a brow at him the first few times it happened thinking the smaller mech was playing some game with him. When the touches began to linger, Megatron shifted his stance farther away. “Just what are you doing?” Megatron asked in hushed tones.

“Nothing?” came the quiet reply that held no notes of any playfulness.

“Rodimus, your behavior is not at all appropriate.” Megatron's attention returned to the crew and the task at hand. 

With a softly spoken “Sorry,” Rodimus withdrew. He remained quiet, not speaking unless to answer, in short, succinct sentences when asked a question by Megatron or a member of their crew. 

Megatron dismissed his co-captain's actions as some form of tantrum until he took a seat in the unusually vacant captain's chair. Only then he could hear the faint rattles and shaky breaths of his nearby co-captain. Megatron glanced over to see Rodimus’ face down turned, hands clasped together, and a faintly visible tremble in the withdrawn frame of the typically exuberant mech. “Rodimus?” There were times when Megatron loved how his voice could carry. No matter how loud the environment his voice could cut through any background noise, but now was not one of those times. “Join me in the Ready Room. I have some things to catch you up on.” 

Rodimus jumped, nodded, and stepped to Megatron’s side. He met Megatron's gaze only briefly while he waited for the larger mech to lead the way into their office. 

“Thunderclash, please give us the room. We have ship’s business to discuss.” Megatron's voice full of command Rodimus fought not to withdraw further. If Thunderclash was here, he needed to look like himself. Rodimus lifted his head, drew his posture up, and forced the appearance of tension to ease from his frame.

Thunderclash paused as he reached the doorway. “Rodimus, it’s good to see you have been released.” Rodimus looks just over Thunderclash’s shoulder, as dark as his spark was at the moment he most certainly didn’t want to appear weak. 

“Thanks, it’s good to be seen.” Rodimus hoped his voice doesn’t sound as thin to everyone as it sounds to himself. He shifted his weight to one leg in a way that best accentuated his frame. 

Thunderclash gave Rodimus a strange look for a moment. “You need to take better care of yourself, Captain. We can’t have our fearless leader wrecked and laid up in medical now can we.” He patted Rodimus on the shoulder and gave him a knowing smile.

Rodimus wished he felt his usual fire. He’d love to knock that stupid grin off Thunderclash’s face. “No, we can’t have that.”

“Thank you Thunderclash. You have the bridge. And please remind Mainframe that video games are not to be played on the ships' computer during his shift, again.” Megatron turned his large frame, body language conveying his meaning that the other mech had been dismissed as he pushed at the other mech’s field without physically touching him. 

The door closed and locked with a beep that sounded louder in Rodimus’ audials than his racing spark. Megatron’s slow movement drew his attention. A simple hand gesture to indicate Rodimus should go first into the room. But he couldn’t move. 

Megatron held out his hand and waited for Rodimus to take it. “What has you so troubled?” He kept his voice soft as he moved them to the couch once settled Megatron pulled the blanket Rodimus kept there around his still trembling co-captain. 

“Nothing, I'm ridiculous.” Rodimus twisted his fingers in the well-worn fabric. “I should be happy to get released. I am glad to be released. I just…” Rodimus shifted in his seat, picked at the blanket surrounding him. 

“You what?” 

Rodimus huffed a laugh and gave Megatron a sideways look. “My first thoughts when Ratchet said I was free to go were about _him_. I didn’t want to go anywhere I’d have to be alone in case he decided he wanted to pick up where we left off.” Rodimus curled in on himself hugging his arms tight around his body. “I don’t want that. I don’t want it to happen, but I couldn’t stop him before, and I know he’s going to be fragged off that I broke like a billion rules. So I’m not looking forward to that inevitable reunion.” 

Megatron pulled Rodimus to lean against his shoulder, “No I’d imagine you wouldn’t. What shall we do to avoid it?” 

Rodimus leaned heavily on the larger mech. “I don’t know. Never leave me alone again, like ever.” Rodimus huffed a laugh, knowing that while he might wish it, that wasn't likely to happen. “I can’t help but feel it’s all my fault, you know? Like the rules weren’t that horrible, and it was nice to have someone taking care of me. I’m pretty lousy at taking care of myself sometimes. And…I liked having someone…” Rodimus' voice trailed off. The more he spoke, the more his words became too honest, too painful, made him feel too exposed and too raw.

“No, Rodimus, it is not your fault. Even when pain is the goal, maiming your lover isn’t. Any rules that interfere with your daily life in such a restrictive way are far from acceptable. That is abuse hiding under the guise of more tender emotions.” 

Rodimus pulled the blanket tighter and weaseled his way behind Megatron’s broad shoulder. “How do you know so much about my relationship?” 

Megatron lifted his arm curling it over Rodimus shoulders to envelope the smaller mech against his frame. “Not your relationship per se, but others of a similar nature. I was once young and inquisitive too.” 

Gold fingers picked at some imagined flaw, “So what you’re saying is you took better care of your playthings than this guy did?” 

Megatron paused his retort that had not been the reply he’d expected Rodimus to give. “No, I was taken better care of than you were. And lovers are not _playthings_. Lovers can be called many things but they and not disposable objects.” 

There were many things that Megatron said that Rodimus couldn't bring himself to ask so he spoke to the one thing he could. “Wait, you were like me?” That was an idea Rodimus couldn't wrap his mind around. 

“I have been both the dominant and submissive partner in such relationships. It is nice to give up control to the right partner. Though to let another have that control is not an easy thing for me, so it doesn't happen often.” Megatron turned on the couch to partially stretch out along its length pulling Rodimus along with him. “More often I am the one in control. I enjoy reducing my world to the small variables of caring completely for one individual.” 

Rodimus sat quietly, mind mulling over the new information. At some point, Megatron’s started tracing slow, soothing strokes over his plating. Rodimus slowly relaxed into the feeling of safety as overtaxed repair systems pulled again towards healing rest. He wondered if this was what it was like to be the one Megatron focused one, wondered how it would feel to have this instead of the what he had known before. “Want that.” He mumbled. 

“What do you want?” Megatron’s raspy voice carried through Rodimus as lips brushed softly at his helm's crest.

“You...” he breathed as the warmth of the large frame, and the comfort it offered brought him swiftly to the brink of recharge.

“What about me?” Megatron waited for an answer when none came he gave Rodimus a small squeeze. “Rodimus? What about me?”

“Want you to take care of me like that,” came the half-formed words of a sleepy reply.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **New Tags Added**
> 
> Self-medicating is never the way, especially when ego outweighs reason.

Weeks had passed, and while Rodimus felt better physically, emotionally, he was faltering. Something had undoubtedly happened his last night with Megatron, but for the life of him, Rodimus couldn’t remember what he could have done. He tried to ask on several occasions, but Megatron kept him at a distance, kept their interactions on a strictly professional level. Rodimus had always known whatever it was between them would inevitably eventually end, he just hadn’t realized it would leave him feeling so bereft. 

Rodimus was still afraid of the movement he saw out of the corner of his eye. Of the shapes hidden in shadows or footsteps where there was no one. Rest was something that rarely if ever came and was hard fought when it did. Drinking helped, though he knew it was far from a healthy coping mechanism. And as he saw it he had very few options left to him. 

So it was with that ever-growing unease Rodimus sat down in front of Mirage at Visages. This bar was quieter, had fewer patrons, and was far more discreet. Some place he might have liked to come with… No, he ended that line of thought right there. Rodimus scrubbed his hands down his face as if to wipe those thoughts from his mind. Mirage smiled at him briefly as he gave Rodimus a fluted glass filled with something bubbling and iridescent. Rodimus stared at the drink as if it held the secrets to the universe or maybe the answer his simple one-word question. One that meant everything to him but nothing to the one that held the answer. 

Why?

When three drinks turned to six Mirage suggested Rodimus call it a night. The former noble even gave Rodimus the excuse that the drinks served at Visages while being slower to show their effects were far more potent than the watered down variety served at Swerve’s. Rodimus smirked at that, but the night was far too young to end. He had nowhere to be, no one he expected to see. And if or when he finally did end his night there was always the chance that his ex might show up. At least if he were good and thoroughly drunk, it would numb him from the repercussions he expected to face. With that in mind, Rodimus made his way to Swerve’s.

Rodimus paused outside the door to Swerve's. It wasn't where he wanted to be, but where he wanted to be didn't want him. That thought sent a lance of pain straight to his spark. Rodimus gave the inside of his cheek a sharp bite before he donned his best _Hot Rod_ smile and stepped through the doors declaring the fun had arrived.

As Rodimus made his way around the bar, he paused among the different groups gathered here and there to grace them with his presence, with the hope of spotting a friendly face. Rodimus snatched a Nightmare Fuel from a serving drone as it passed. He tossed back the drink so quickly it barely burned on the way down. The empty glass was snatched from Rodimus’ grasp and placed on the drone’s tray before another drink pressed into his hand. It took Rodimus a moment to focus on who had handed him the drink. His arm slid around Blaster’s wide frame as he leaned into the mech’s side. “Aw, thanks. I didn’t know you cared.” 

“I don’t, but I can for the night.” Blaster snaked his arm around Rodimus’ waist grazing his aft as he went. 

Rodimus shivered as Blaster’s thumb traced the biolights along his side. He leaned back to give the mech an appraising look. “Yeah, I think we can arrange that.” After that, the drinks never stopped. The more they drank, the more intimate Blaster’s touches became. Dark fingers that were not the ones Rodimus truly wanted on his frame stroked along biolights in a way that was at completely welcome. Blaster's hands traced the gaps in Rodimus' armor between his hip and thigh. Those wrong sized fingers curled underneath Rodimus' armor to tug at wires hidden within.

It all felt wrong, like something ill-fitting and uncomfortable. Like a deep set binding in his gears. But, Rodimus reminded himself he had nowhere else to be. That if he was with Blaster, then he was unlikely to be visited by his ex. With that small comfort in mind, Rodimus tossed back another drink. 

He’d long ago lost count of how many he’d had. He was still coherent, mostly, and still, upright, thanks to the wall Blaster had him bodily pinned against. This isn’t where he wanted to be. Despite the stable structure at his back and the thick frame covering most of his Rodimus felt exposed. “Blaster, not here. Too open, too many eyes, don’t want to put on a show.” 

“I can help them go away if you want Rodi. Still got some magic pills from my time with the Wreckers. Just say the word, and I’ll make you feel good.” The words were fed to him, but Rodimus had long since closed his eyes. “What’s the matter pretty thing. You said you were cool. Not getting cold feet on me are you, Hot Rod.” 

“N-no, we’re good. Just not here, not fair to give these poor fraggers a show worth paying for huh?” Rodimus pushed at Blasters bulkier frame, but the mech didn’t budge. 

“Sure baby, just drink this, and we’ll split yeah?” Blaster handed Rodimus yet another drink. Rodimus thought to buy himself some time by sipping it, but the moment the glass touched his lips Blasters fingers were pushing it up from the bottom. 

“Don’t waste it Hot Rod, not a single drop.” The glint in the communications officers eyes bordered on maniacal though Rodimus gave him a wink and let the drink slide down his throat in a few gulps. “Good bot, let me settle up with Swerve, and we’ll take our party somewhere else. You stay right here.” Blaster kissed him hard. Rodimus’ helm smacked into the wall behind him then Blaster was gone. Rodimus looked around the room. Hoping to find a friendlier face, but everything was blurry. He didn’t remember Nightmare Fuel having this effect on him no matter how much he drank. He reached slowly for the glass on the nearby table, it took his eyes a bit to make the two or was it three now, glasses into one swirling the remains of his drink around he noticed white sediment floating in the spiral. 

“Told you those pills were magic didn’t I?” Blaster leered at him. "Time to go have some fun."


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the things said go unheard. 
> 
> Sometimes the silence is the most telling.

An alarm is blaring somewhere, and Rodimus grumbled that someone needed to get up so would stop. “So, you going to get up then or just sleep all day?" The warm kissed brushed Rodimus lips quickly shocked him awake. Blaster was still dripping from his shower. Rodimus head swam from the quick movement. 

“You drugged me, again. Why do you keep doing that?” Rodimus wanted to sound angry, but his voice came out full of static and questions. 

“Aw, my lovely thing don’t get mad. It not like we didn't play with all kinds of Happy Pills back when we ran with Kup. I remember you and Blurr loved to put on some enticing shows after taking a few of them. Besides, when you come at me with those sad puppy eyes telling me how you had a bad day, I can’t help but make you forget.” 

“Yeah, but we knew what we were getting then. You slipped these to me without my knowing, again. Not cool B.” Rodimus’ alarm blared again this time accompanied by the intercom in his room crackling to life. 

“Rodimus, do you intend to show up for your shift at all? Your blatant tardiness has become a reoccurring habit. One we can no longer ignore.” Ultra Magnus' voice growled at him over his room's intercom system.

Rodimus jumped from his bed and scrambled towards the door. Luckily Blaster had snagged his wrist before he made it too far. “You might wanna clean up before making your entrance there Pretty.” Rodimus followed Blaster's eyes down his frame. Dried fluid and scratches littered his frame. 

“Who all did you let loose on me last night?” He gave a very pointed look to Blaster's chest. 

The communications office laugh at that. “No Pretty, that was all just us. You asked for more, wanted it harder, and told me to make you feel it in the morning. As always I aim to please.” Blaster pointed him towards the shower and gave a hard swat to Rodimus' aft. “Get going. I'll be there in a second to scrub your back. Let me shut the grumpy aft on the intercom up in first."

~oOo~

Rodimus ducked his head as the elevator doors opened. He had hoped he would be able to avoid Magnus for a few days or at least until the larger mech found somewhere else to direct his ire. “I know Magnus. I know. You can save the lecture because at this point you and I both know I could recite it verbatim and not even miss the pauses or punctuation.” Rodimus waved a hand dismissively as he hurried passed the other mech.

“Well then _captain_ if you are aware of what I will say then why do you insist on making this conversation a regular occurrence?” 

“Because I want you to feel useful? I don’t know Mags, but seriously I’m here now so hand over the bridge and get going to wherever it is that you’re going because now you’re late too.”

If it was at, all possible Ultra Magnus straightened his posture just a little more. “You and I will have this conversation later Rodimus. With none of your backtalk or avoidance tactics. Fortunately for you, I do have somewhere to be. However, I am not the one who has control of the bridge. That would be Megatron. He’s been going over your paperwork while he should be out here handling ships business. Now that you're here I expect to see your reports handed over or in the queue before your shift’s end.” 

“Yeah, sure, fine, Magnus. I'll get right on those. Just, just go okay? I've got this.” Rodimus tried to stand unaffected as the former enforcer leveled a state on him that felt as if it weighed as much as the Maximus Ambus armor. Rodimus breathed deeply once the larger mech had left the bridge. Rodimus flopped down across the captain's chair and glared at the door to the office. Protocol said he should go in there and have Megatron hand the bridge over to him. But facing his co-captain and being dismissed was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now. Rodimus was still sore from whatever Blaster had done to him last night, and head still swam if he moved too fast. So he sat there and stewed as he tried to piece together memory fragments of last night. 

Lost in his thoughts, Rodimus didn't notice the door to the office open, but Megatron’s voice shook Rodimus' mind free of its wanderings. “Magnus I... Rodimus, I didn't know you'd arrived.” Rodimus almost sat up straight, anger at his recent treatment made him sprawl out just a little more. He admitted to himself that this was petty, but at least he knew he hadn’t started this. 

“Not like you'd've noticed anyway." He mumbled as he readjusted in the chair throwing a leg over the armrest. 

Megatron quirked a brow at his co-captain. "I couldn't quite hear you Rodimus what did you say again?" 

"I said, it would be easier to see if you weren't always buried in reports or paperwork all the time. But no need for you to worry. The ship's running fine. I got this, and I don’t need you.” That last parting shot was pointedly said and accompanied by a glare that could cut even the thickest armor. 

But Megatron remained where he stood. Gaze locked on Rodimus his expression unreadable until the flame-colored mech started to shift uncomfortably. The weight of the moment grew between their locked gaze until the entire crew felt its heft. Finally, Rodimus spoke up, “What did you want Magnus for anyway?” 

“A small matter on some paperwork. Nothing for you to concern yourself about.” Megatron said as he returned to their ready room. “Nothing for you to concern yourself about.” He tossed the comment over his shoulder with a smirk towards Rodimus before the door closed. 

Rodimus knew Megatron was baiting him. He tried to sit there and ignore it, to not rise to the occasion and let it all go. He didn’t know why he let it get to him. Megatron had made it blatantly clear he had no more desire to spend time alone with Rodimus, which still stuck in his craw. Rodimus fought to keep himself in the chair. He attempted to distract himself by asking for a status report again though half the various station's replies were lost to him as he glared at the ajar door to their ready room. “Fuck it,” Rodimus grumbled as he heaved himself out of the chair. “What paperwork thing did you want Magnus for? Or are you just going to pretend I’m not here some more?” 

If Megatron heard Rodimus, he gave no outward sign that Rodimus could detect. “There are some reports and conscripts need your signature.” 

“Well, I'm here now so lay it on me.” Megatron slid a datapad across the desk. Rodimus flipped the device on and immediately wanted to flip it off. The block type font, the dry wording, the long words, Rodimus knew he wouldn’t make it through the first paragraph. As the phrases started blanking in front of him, he switched to reading the first line of each paragraph hoping to glean enough information to make sense of the document. When that didn’t work, he tried again, started at the beginning and read more slowly. Rodimus forced his mind to focus on each word and what it meant, but soon though the words made sense individually, they weren't cohering to each other in his mind. So he tried the next paragraph, again focusing on the individual words, again they lost their combined meaning. 

Finally, he threw the datapad back on the desk. “It’s fine with me. You and Magnus and Thunderclash and whoever the hell else you guys put on the command staff now are going to do what you want anyway so what does it matter what I say.” Rodimus stormed towards the door, all anger and bluster as a storm front before a mountain range. 

And the mountain, though behind him as he reached for the door switch, stole his thunder with a few simple words. “It matters.” 

Rodimus' hand fell from the control pad as his head thunked forward against on the door. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” Megatron's voice though quiet carried his mild curiosity across the room to grip Rodimus' spark tight. 

“Say just the exact right thing at just the exact right time to make me not hate you?”

“It's a gift.”

“Well, it's a damn cruel one because I want to hate you. I want to hate you for everything you've done to me. But you make it so damn hard to hate you when you give me exactly what I need or say what I need to hear, the exact thing I've wanted for like forever." The side of Rodimus' fist smacked the door hard enough to rattle it in its casing. "And I know, now that I've had that... I don't want to try anymore.”

“What would you have me do? Continue as we had been? I cannot care for my jailer Rodimus.”

The flame-colored mech looked over his shoulder at his co-captain careful to keep his face hidden in the shadow of his shoulder pauldron. “Jailer? Me? We hold the same rank Megatron.” 

“While we share position we are not equal Rodimus. Our crew has not left death threats or graffiti on your stateroom door.”

“No, they just voted to replace me, and I’m just always getting them killed.” Rodimus stared at his empty palm still seeing the numbers etched there. 

“Hardly the same Rodimus, if I were to let my guard down, if I were too lax there are more than a few onboard that might not hesitate in taking advantage of the situation.” Megatron retrieved the datapad Rodimus left on the desk. He flicked it on and began reading again. 

“I know it’s not the same. I’m not stupid.” Rodimus took a step back towards the desk then paused. He studied Megatron for a moment before he turned to leave again. That too he aborted as he pondered the chair before the desk. “I’m not well liked here either. Just because they haven’t threatened to kill me doesn’t me they like me, or ever respect me. I know most, even Magnus only tolerate me. Divine intervention or whatever but it wouldn’t take too much for them to oops and forget me on a planet somewhere. So yeah while it’s not death threats, I get you.” Rodimus spun the seat around sitting in it backward folding his arms across the backrest. “You can’t find intimacy. You can’t find friendship. You can’t find a home when you’re always hiding behind masks. That requires a certain level of vulnerability. It requires a certain degree of openness. You have to expose your all your broken, contradictory, parts to someone else. You run the risk of having who you are at your core rejected and hurt and misunderstood. It’s hard, but the rewards can outweigh the risk. If you try?” 

“What are you saying Rodimus? Speak plainly.” Megatron barely glanced up from his datapad. 

Rodimus scrubbed his hands across his face, “I'm too to try and talk in circles with you. You're better at it.” He stood and turned for the door. “Look, sorry to bother you with all this." His gold colored hand twisted in a circle. "I just really enjoyed our time together and appreciated what you did for me. I just felt safe with you, and I don't know, wanted it to continue or something. Anyway, I've got the bridge so, yeah.” That said Rodimus left, and for a while, Megatron didn't move.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another night, another round of drinks, another set of Happy Pills, and a long overdue but enlightening conversation.

Another night, another round of drinks, another set of Happy Pills to ease the ache constricting his spark. This time Atomizer joined Rodimus and Blaster in their little corner at Swerve's. Tonight was music night. Blaster took it as a personal challenge to keep every mech out of their seat. Rodimus included, though it wasn't as though he needed much convincing. Drift had joined him at one point but had gotten made and left when Rodimus couldn't be persuaded to call it a night and hang with him instead. 

“You don't need him Pretty. We're having too much fun here for you to pack it in so early aren't we?” As Blaster kissed him, he slipped a pill in Rodimus’ mouth with his tongue. “Let's have a different kind of fun tonight Hot Rod. That pill will make you live up to your name in a different way.” 

“What did you give me B?” Rodimus head swam. It was a good thing he thought that he had two different sets of hands holding him up.

~oOO~

“You know where he is; don’t you? What they're doing to him?” Ravage’s voice called over the intercom in Megatron’s darkened room.

“Yes,” Megatron tried again to read the passage of the novel before him though the words had long ago stopped registering in his restless mind. 

“I don’t like him either, you know,” though Ravage’s voice held no disdain. 

“I am aware.” Megatron didn't look up when the security feed from Swerve's flashed up on the wall mounted screen in his room. 

“Well then if you're so aware I'm sure you won't find this the least bit interesting.” Megatron watched as under the guise of dancing or more aptly swaying to the music Blaster and Mainframe touched and teased as Rodimus stumbled in their grasp. 

“He is free to do as he chooses.” Megatron returned his gaze to his reading. 

“Except he didn't choose. He didn't even ask. He hasn't asked the last few times this has happened, and you know that. For one who spoke so often about freedom of choice, of not having things chosen for you...”

“What would have me do? He is my jailer. This entire damned ship is my prison and...” Frustration gave Megatron's voice an edge he didn't often take with his longtime friend. 

Ravage interrupted, “But it doesn't have to be. We've made better out of worse. We could do so again.”

Megatron again watched the screen, “I'm far too old to begin again Ravage.” 

“So that new chapter of your life you’ve spoken about is already written then? No words to be written on those new pages?" Megatron neither moved nor replied. "Well, in that case, I guess there’s nothing more to say.” With that Ravage turned off the intercom though the video feed from Swerve’s remained.

~oOo~

Images of the night before dominated Megatron’s mind as he sat through his shift on the bridge. His mind regaled him with memories of Rodimus between two other frames encased in arms of red and gold, of drink after drink, of pills, of various libations plying the younger mech until his consciences waned and self-control became no more. But still, the drinks continued. Megatron remembered touches became intimate despite Rodimus’ attempts at protestation. He warred with himself at what role he wished to play in all this.

It would be so easy to forget his place here, to lose sight of .what awaited him at the end of his journey. How despite the freedoms he enjoyed on board the ship, despite the friendships forged here, he was not free. His cell had gotten bigger, prettier, but a gilded cage is still a cage. Lines from an Earth poet sprung to mind.

_The caged bird sings_  
with a fearful trill   
of things unknown   
but longed for still 

In spite of all of this Megatron could admit to himself that he was lonely. His time spent in the company of the once and possibly future Prime had been enjoyable. His co-captain had a sharp wit, was thoughtful, and had an insight into their crew that had made him see them in a new light. Their time together was something Megatron reluctantly admitted his missed.

It was easy to remain lost in his thoughts, the crew so well suited for their task they needed little if any input from him. Reports called out or handed in as information changed were finished with half a mind. It wasn’t until Rodimus was due to arrive that Megatron attention returned to the outside world. The lift door opened, and the next shift’s crew spilled out, last to do so was Rodimus himself. _Speak of the devil and he shall appear._ Megatron though as he waited for his co-captain to make some snarky comment about him occupying the captain’s chair. When none was forthcoming, its delayed response had Megatron turning in his seat. 

Shock held him still as his gaze landed on Rodimus who was leaning heavily against the wall. The steadiness of his support almost hid the sway of Rodimus posture. Megatron remained stock still as Rodimus pushed away from the wall and stumbled forward until he could grab the back of the captain’s chair. “Don’t make a scene okay? Just let me sit down.” Rodimus pleaded to him with a hushed voice.

“What’s wrong with you?” Megatron stood and turned to physically block any view of Rodimus their gossip-prone crew might have.

Rodimus shook his head, grip tightening on the back of the chair as he gave a mirthless laugh. “Oh, so many things, where would we even start.” 

“Can you make it to the office?” Megatron forced his frame still unsure if his help was welcome with the distance he forced between them. 

Through a long calculated look where the room swam, and his vision doubled Rodimus finally shook his head, “Nope. I just let me sit.” He tried to edge forward hoping to claim the now vacant captain’s chair but lost his balance completely as it spun. It took Rodimus a few moments to realize he was not on the floor. Slowly Rodimus opened his eyes black swirls on a gray chest came into view. “Nice catch. Thanks, Megs” 

Megatron stared down at his co-captain emotions swirled within him. Anger at whoever had put Rodimus in this state, but guilt won when he realized he had a role to play in Rodimus’ current condition. “You are in no condition to take command of the bridge.”

Anger flared in Rodimus’ field though his voice held the rumble of a distant storm. “I am if you’d just let me sit down. The room will quit spinning in a minute. It’d stop spinner faster if someone had fragged me,” He threw an angry glance in Blaster’s direction through Megatron’s bulk. “But that’s not going to happen anytime soon so just move and let me sit.” 

Megatron’s look softened as he adjusted his grip to hold Rodimus' weight with one arm. His now free hand raised to stroke the spiked helm, but a flinch from Rodimus froze him to his spark. “What have we done to you?” His quiet voice drew Rodimus’ attention. 

“What are you talking about?” Rodimus tried to shove Megatron away and move towards the captain’s chair. “Just go, will you? It’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m nothing for you to worry about. Besides you’ve made it more than clear that you don’t so just go and let me do what I do.” His voiced while hushed was still full of fire.

Megatron watched Rodimus for a moment. “No," he murmured to his co-captain, to the room at large he said, "There’s a matter with the latest jump coordinates. They bring us close to an appropriate place to give the crew shore leave. Magnus asked that I discuss it with you.” That should sufficiently give the gossip mongers something else to occupy their time rather than worry with the overdue conversation he and Rodimus needed to have. When the door to their office closed behind Megatron, he released Rodimus who promptly fell to the floor. 

“Ow, seriously? What the hell?” Rodimus wasn’t sure which hurt more his head, his aft or his pride.

Megatron bent to help Rodimus up, “You couldn’t remain out there, someone would eventually call Ultra Magnus if they haven’t already.” 

Rodimus shoved Megatron’s hands away. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help.” He scrambled to his feet stumbling across the office to fall across their couch. “Why won’t you just go away? Why is it always you? Why are you always around?” 

Megatron fought not to touch Rodimus as he searched for some passable explanation that wouldn’t give his inner turmoil away. “Because you are a member of my crew…” 

“Your crew?” Rodimus questioned harshly.

“…And I take care of those under my command.” He ignored Rodimus snort of derision. 

Rodimus sat up his gaze hellfire bright, “So that’s it then. That explains everything. Well, then thanks, Mighty Megatron for taking the time to mend this broken thing.” Rodimus forced himself to stand he kept his hand on the couch as he offered a clumsy bow, “I’m all better now, so I absolve you of your duty of care. Now if you don’t mind I’d like to rest, so my head will stop spinning then I can finish out my shift before Magnus rakes my aft over the coals.” Rodimus lay down on the couch an arm thrown across his optics to block out the light. He listened as the door to their office opened then closed, the room fell to complete silence. “Primus below I’m such a damn fool. I knew better; fragging knew better than to get attached especially to him, but did I listen to my own advice, hell no.” Rodimus fought the burn in his optics, the tightening in his throat. 

“Yes. Well. That does seem to be going around.” At the sound of Megatron's voice, Rodimus shot up to find co-captain standing stock still hands spread against the door’s frame, dim optics hidden in darkened shadow of his bowed helm. 

“What is?” He didn’t want to ask, but he had to know so Rodimus forced the words out raspy and broken over his too tight vocal cords. 

“Getting attached when it is inadvisable to do so.” Megatron dimly lit gaze caught Rodimus’ at he glanced over his shoulder at his co-captain. “I have grown to care for you Rodimus, but you are my warden here. The keeper of the keys to my freedom, and if necessary, judge and jury to my parole. The very last thing I should do is become attached to you, though I find that you hold my thoughts day and night. I have no escape from you, no manner in which I do not see your influence. It is fascinating and infuriating all in the same breath, and I am beyond my scope on how to deal with it. 

“Don’t Megatron, just don’t. You show up when I’m at my bloody worst, say the exact right thing, make me feel things, give me hope about stuff. Then you go all cold and distant. I can’t take it. Things aren’t good now, but they’re not me getting the hell beaten out of me for breathing in the wrong general direction anymore. I’m not some Terran yo-yo that you can keep throwing away and yanking back. I’m not… strong enough for that.” 

“It is out of personal self-defense, and maybe a bit of lack of experience on my part. Personel relationships were not something I had much time to indulge in in my past." Megatron sighed. He turned to lean back against the nearby wall arms folded across his chest. "When were last alone you said that you wished I would take care of you. It is something I found I very much enjoyed. However, when I last ventured into a relationship with the dynamic which we were speaking about, the mech and I had been lovers for some time before. But not we were open with one another. The relationship became damaged and disintegrated until all that was left was the willingness to cause each other pain. It became an infection that contaminated every aspect of any time we spent together. And it is not something I ever wish to repeat.”

“Yeah, well me either, not again, especially the pain part. I've had enough of that. And having someone be actually honest with me, would be a novel concept. I don’t think that’s ever happened before.” Rodimus picked at the seams along his hands. “You're talking about Starscream aren't you?” 

Megatron's expression turned cold. “I will not disclose the name of my former lovers. Also, it is none of your business.” 

Rodimus turned his face away. “Okay~ It’s just you said that you and _whoever_ weren't open. I thought that if I told you that I wanted that too then maybe you'd take a chance on me. I mean… Yeah, it's sort of the same dynamic in that we're both in the command structure, but we're supposed to be equals, which is something else I want you know, but I am nothing like him. I mean _if_ that's who you're talking about. No war college here, not a scientist either. I mean I understand most of what they're telling me, and I do like to annoy Perceptor by calling his complicated answers magic but... yeah.“ 

The silence between them was thick. Rodimus fought not to twitch, though his shoulders rolled down under the weight of things not said. The longer the silence held, the smaller Rodimus tried to become. This situation was impossible, and he’d wished he’d just kept his mouth shut. 

“There is still the matter of the power imbalance.” Even Megatron’s voice didn’t seem to carry its natural weight through the tension of the room. 

“Yeah, well not to burst your bubble or anything but you’re not as scary as you used to be, at least not to me.” Rodimus hoped his humor carried more than his nervousness or his desperate hope. 

“I meant your power over me. You are still me warden.” The quiet rasp of Megatron’s voice hid the complicated nature of his admission. 

“How do we fix that?” Rodimus wanted to stand, to move closer to the hope dangled in front of him by Megatron’s words.

“I am unsure.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kiss, a conversation, a confession.

A heavy knock on the door broke the silence that settled between them. “Rodimus, Megatron? It’s Ultra Magnus. I need to speak with you both. There’s been a report.” 

Rodimus and Megatron locked gazes, someone had called them in whether it had been his behavior or that Megatron had foisted Rodimus into their office under a pretense. Their charade had not been convincing enough, and someone had called Ultra Magnus, now there would be consequences. 

“Ratchet said medications didn’t last in your system. If you raise your body temperature will whatever you’ve taken burn off quicker?” Megatron concern coloring his voice. 

 

“It might? I mean you’re right in that. Normally drugs of any kind don’t work long on me but Blas… I got… I took a pretty high dose.” Rodimus shifted in his seat. He hoped his fumble wasn’t noticed. The last thing he wanted was to drag his friend into this quagmire. 

 

“Try then, quickly, or for being intoxicated while on duty, Ultra Magnus will have no other recourse but to cite you, place you in the brig, reported you Ratchet and involve Optimus. All things I’m sure you wish to avoid.” 

 

“Yeah, I’d like to avoid all that like the plague.” 

 

Megatron pushed away from the wall to stand. “Your ability to create fire, can you control it? A short burst should work.” 

 

“No, it doesn’t work like that. It’s a defensive thing, like life or death situations. It’s the original slow burn, takes a while to build. So unless you plan to shoot me in the chest again…” Rodimus scrubbed at his face. The lock began to beep as Magnus tapped in his security code. “Frag, this is the absolute last thing I need.” Rodimus’ head fell into his hands. 

 

“No, Rodimus, I have no desire to see you so grievously wounded again,” Megatron rubbed at his chin, eyes dim in thought. “but I have an option that may work if you’ll allow it.” 

 

“If it’ll keep me from all the trouble Magnus is bringing through that door then I’m game for just about anything.” Rodimus stared at the office door with pale eyes and shaking hands. At this point, he’d jump out an airlock if it would get him out of what awaited him.

 

Megatron crossed the room in a few strides to stand before his co-captain. “There is nothing sinister involved. You have my word. But if this is to work you will need to play along. No matter what I say to Ultra Magnus or his reaction to it. Can you do that?” Megatron reached his hand out to Rodimus and waited. Rodimus searched Megatron’s for he knew not what before he slowly lay his golden hand in Megatron’s larger one giving his trust and himself over to the ex-warlord and his plan. Megatron pulled Rodimus to stand the ex-warlord's field full of warmth and concern as it enveloped smaller mech. “If I do something that makes you uncomfortable push me I will give way.” Rodimus startled as the door lock beeped again indicating the code entered had been accepted. When it opened the anger of Ultra Magnus, and the weight of the Autobot Code would be brought to bear on him. 

“May I kiss you?” Megatron whispered the words, his voice soft but beseeching in its request. Rodimus trembled, whether, from all that Ultra Magnus’ eminent entry represented or the implied intimacy with Megatron, he was unsure. Rodimus was thankful when Megatron’s field, usually held so tight, pulsed warmly against his own as a reminder he was not alone. “Yes,” the words were barely more than a whisper as Rodimus forced them through past the lump in his throat.

 

Megatron used their still joined hands to pull Rodimus closer. His other hand curled gently around the side of Rodimus’ head tipping the flame-colored helm back. Megatron brushed their lips slowly together edging Rodimus ever wider apart. The first slide of Megatron’s tongue against Rodimus’ own was like stepping into a hot oil bath after too long spent in the cold. It was a warmth that spread throughout him to cover and coat each connection, each capacitor, every nerve fiber until he felt consumed by it. It was everything and too much and all he ever wanted. His body curled against the one holding him molding himself to the larger frame as much as their armor and height difference would allow. 

A small part of his spark hurt for how horrifically cruel it was going to be when Megatron pulled away again after this. But for this brief perfect moment, Rodimus would allow himself to pretend that Megatron was here with him to remain. That their kiss was not a ruse, these actions were sincere and not a part of some scheme. 

Megatron changed the angle of their kiss, deepening it, purring at their prolonged contact, savoring each glide of their tongues, each brush of their lips as if Rodimus were the sweetest treat. Rodimus felt his spark flare and burn. Dark fingers stroked gentle lines under his eyes, thumbed the cords of his neck, held his helm as if it were some fragile thing made of spun glass. The arm at his back gripped him tighter, held him closer and Rodimus ached for all of it. All that he wanted and couldn’t have. 

 

Distantly Rodimus could hear Ultra Magnus’ voice calling out to them. Megatron ended their kiss to respond. He held Rodimus helm close to his chest. Through the pulsing of Megatron’s spark, the whirl of cooling fans, the small soothing strokes along his spine, and the haze of the mind blowing kiss, Megatron’s responses to Ultra Magnus’ questions filtered to him. “Yes, Ultra Magnus I apologize. It was my idea. No, Rodimus was not intoxicated. We were merely playing out a scene. Of course, he is well, tired, and still healing, but well. Yes, of course, we’ll do our best to ensure no further rumors are encouraged by our behavior. We apologize for having disrupted your night. Thank you for your diligence, Ultra Magnus. Your dedication is always appreciated.” 

 

When Ultra Magnus finally left them, Megatron didn’t immediately release him, and Rodimus made no effort to move away. Instead, he pulled himself tighter to the larger frame. “Thank you.” 

A small squeeze was all the answer Rodimus received before Megatron loosened his hold on Rodimus. “Why do you allow them to use you so? Why do you simply not tell others ‘no’ when you are unhappy with their treatment of you?” 

“You make it sound so easy,” Rodimus returned to his seat on the couch. 

The cushions sank as Megatron joined Rodimus on the furniture. “Is it not?”

Rodimus scoffed, “No. Hardly if ever, at least in my experience.”

Megatron scrutinized the smaller mech, his gaze falling heavily on Rodimus making his co-captain shift under its weight. “Interpersonal relationships are rarely easy, especially if not thoroughly discussed before entering into them.”

“Yeah tell me about it,” Rodimus rubbed at the bridge of his chevron.

“Fine, then I will tell you about it.” Megatron stood and set on the edge of their nearby desk. “I have made no secret that I care about what happens to you. I felt that during your convalesces we grew closer than our burgeoning camaraderie…”

Rodimus leveled a scathing look at his co-captain through the splayed fingers still rubbing his sore head. “Why do you have to use big words to put distance between yourself and everyone else? Why don’t you just speak plainly?”

Megatron stalled his retort to Rodimus’ interruption. Defensiveness from a strike a little too close to home made him sit up and take notice of the mech before him in a new light. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Rodimus pushed himself to stand, wobbly at first but slowly building anger lent its strength to his steps as he made for their office door and the bridge beyond. “Of course you don’t. Everyone forgets I’m not a complete idiot.” 

“Rodimus wait.” The flame-colored mech turned to see his co-captain still seated on the desk head in his hand frame curled in an uncharacteristic slouch. “I know you are far from what you are perceived. I'm sure you've gleaned enough from our moments together that is the case with myself as well. However at the moment, as much as I'd like to have this conversation with you, I am fighting against eons upon eons of learned behavior. Being candid in my past has never served me well. While keeping everyone at a distance has saved my spark innumerable times.”

Rodimus leaned heavily against the wall behind him, grimacing and wincing as the still sore internals made their displeasure at taking his weight in such a way known. “I thought I was getting to know you, but then you went all distant on me. So don’t know what I know other than I really appreciate what you just did for me but I don’t have it in me to talk in circles with you right now. If you have something to say just say it.”

Megatron straightened ticking off his points on his fingers as he listed them. “You are my jailer, a position that has been used against me before. You are an Autobot, something I may now myself claim to be but something that I had fought before I knew how to fight. You have borne the Matrix which in time passed would have made you a Prime, though you do not call yourself as such now. Something again that…” 

“I get it!” Rodimus sighed scrubbing at his face to cover the pain that lanced through him. “I get it,” he continued voice losing its edge. “You and I are oil and water. We don’t mix. I get it.” Rodimus flipped a mock salute as he turned once again to leave. 

“And yet my thoughts are consumed by you.” Face lowered though crimson optics still sought Rodimus shocked blue from beneath his helm crest. “It would be wise to stay away, to keep my distance from you as our power dynamic is so heavily skewed in your favor. One word from you up the chain of command, be it a false accusation or construed misconception and the conditions of my parole are in moot. And yet… and yet…” 

“And yet?” Rodimus didn't try to hide his hopeful lilt.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes shaking fingers and fidgety locks can be a very good thing.

"And yet, here we are. Again you need me, and I cannot refuse you.” 

Rodimus pushed away from the wall; hope pushed him to move closer even as his spark pulsed fearfully. He couldn't believe what he heard. He was afraid for this to be genuine and terrified it was not. “What does that even mean?” 

Megatron sighed and held his hand out again for the smaller mech. “It means that despite my better judgment I have grown fond of you. And for all your infuriating qualities and idiosyncrasies I have formed an attachment to you that I am incapable of ignoring. So provided you are willing, and we can come to an agreement I'd like to explore this connection with you further.” 

Rodimus closed the last few paces between them turning his hand to entwine their fingers. “Right, so okay, you like me, and want to see what we are like together? Like _together_ together?” 

Megatron gave Rodimus a bewildered look as he tugged his co-captain closer, “Yes.”

Rodimus stumbled forward at the unexpected pull his hand coming to rest on Megatron’s chest to stop them from crashing together. “Does that mean I can have more... Like before, only where you mean it this time?” Rodimus’ gaze fell to Megatron's mouth as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. A surge of warmth from Megatron’s field had Rodimus ready to melt in the larger mech’s arms. They were close, so close Rodimus could see all the tiny abrasions on the crystal of Megatron’s optics, the fine cracks in the dark color that lined Megatron’s eyes and continued over his cheeks. Rodimus' fingers twitched with the urge to trace those lines. It occurred to Rodimus that he was staring and that Megatron hadn't answered. “Maybe?”

Large dark hands cupped Rodimus’ helm drawing the smaller mech up though not for that much-desired kiss. Megatron rested his forehead against Rodimus’ own. He drew in a calming breath that coincided with a subtle tremble that passed through the other mech. “Such a small thing; you ask like it’s such a small thing. Yet because of you, my spark burns and flares in ways it has not in eons.”

“Let me burn with you then? Your kisses make me hot like I’m going to _flame out_ only better.” He pulled at the Megatron’s collar fairing, but the larger mech refused to move.

“As much as we might find that enjoyable, you, little Prime, are on shift." He nuzzled Rodimus nose with his own. Megatron held fast to his temperance through the inferno raging against it. "You should return to your duties, so the concerned party that called Ultra Magnus doesn’t feel the need to call him again. I seriously doubt he would forgive us both again.”

Rodimus visible wilted in the larger mech’s arms. Eyes closed as he fought back the hurt at the rejection. “I suppose you’re right.” He cast a look over his shoulder to the office door and the bridge beyond. “Yeah…” Reluctantly Rodimus found his balance on his own feet slowly disentangled himself and his field from the last place he wanted to leave. “So I suppose I’ll see you later or something?” His fingers loosened their tangle with Megatron’s own. “Maybe?” 

His spark ached at the slow nod Megatron gave by way of an answer. Rodimus so desperately wanted to ask, to know exactly when he would see his co-captain again. He needed to know this was real, that Megatron was interested in spending time with him again, that this wasn’t some drug induced fantasy. One of the many that had come crashing down on him when reality crept in to steal him for another lovely dream. But no confirmation was forthcoming. Rodimus watched as Megatron curled his now empty hand into a fist and his arms crossed over his chest. “Right, so later then.” Rodimus hoped he sounded more confident than he felt as he spun and took his first step towards the door. 

The beeps of the door code sounded too loud in his ears especially compared to the remembered sound of the thrum of Megatron’s spark. Rodimus shook his head to clear the thoughts that snatched at with his focus. He cleared his code and started again. Rodimus mumbled the numbers as he touched them so those sneaky little thoughts of warm plating, soft kisses, and a gentle embrace couldn’t creep in to steal his attention. 

Rodimus cleared then entered his code, again, for the third time and gave the door slight kick for good measure. “Stupid door, stupid locks.” A dark hand closed around his wrist. It spun him to look up into a furrowed brow with eyes that searched his own. “What? What’d I do?” The look didn’t change only grew in intensity as Megatron’s hand rose quickly towards Rodimus’ face. He flinched away. Rodimus hated his reaction, hated that old haunts refused to give up their hold on his mind. But the hand didn’t touch, and the look in those searching blazing crimson optics softened. Rodimus pulled the warm hand to his cheek and nuzzled into it. His gaze held Megatron’s as Rodimus placed a soft kiss on the rough palm. 

That kiss broke the dam loose in Megatron. He kissed Rodimus cheek as he lifted the small Prime. Holding him close until Rodimus wrapped his legs around Megatron’s small waist. Megatron lay his forehead against Rodimus helm crest taking a moment to breathe in the sweet smell of his co-captain before he spoke. His words soft and low sent a shiver through Rodimus frame. “May I kiss you?”

Rodimus clutched at the massive shoulders grounding himself in their strength. “Yes. Please yes.” The mouth that met his was not forceful or demanding. Instead, slow open mouth kisses accompanied Megatron's rumbled purr. Kisses teased the corners of Rodimus’ mouth, lips slid along his own, a squeeze of his already tightly held frame. Rodimus collided with the wall behind them a gasp escaped as the weight of his co-captain held him there solidly. 

“Did I hurt you?” Their foreheads pressed together fields and breath over lapping. 

“No, I can take it.” Rodimus angled his helm as golden hands clutched at the solid gray frame. 

Megatron traced Rodimus nose with his own as he breathed in the scent of the heated speedster’s frame. “I won't cause you pain. Be honest with me above all else, or this cannot work.”

“No pain, I'm good, promise, Just a little sore. I want this I swear.” Rodimus pulled at Megatron. He desperately wanted his co-captain to continue those intoxicating kisses. 

“I should let you go. We’re acting very irresponsibly.” Megatron spoke between kisses to parted lips.

“I’m young. I’m allowed to be irresponsible.” Megatron pulled back just enough to give Rodimus a look. “I know, captain’s duty to his crew. But just, please? I want this so bad right now, and you’re so close, and we’re already here, so, please? Just a little while longer then I’ll go be a good captain I swear.” His wish was granted as Megatron’s mouth returned to his. Long lingering kisses that deepened until Rodimus head swam. He wasn’t sure if it was the pain of being pressed so tightly against the wall, having several of his larger vents covered, or the bliss inducing kisses. Either way, he didn’t care and hoped it lasted with many more to come. 

When they finally did part, and Megatron carefully resettled Rodimus on the ground, Rodimus fought unsuccessfully to keep the dazed grin off his face. “Find me later? We can go over reports or something?” It was the very last thing Rodimus wanted to do if he was alone with Megatron. But maybe if he became a good responsible captain, he’d earn more of those mind blowing kisses. A nod and a squeeze from Megatron had Rodimus all but bouncing to the Captain’s chair. 

Later as Megatron sat alone in their office finishing up his own logs for the day, he couldn’t help but check the security feed from the bridge. No one was there to see the small smile as he watched a mirrored one creep across Rodimus’ face. No eyes caught sight of him biting the inside of his cheek as golden fingers touched slightly swollen lips as that same happy smile bloomed into one full of happiness. No sparks were there to witness that bright green point one percenter spark flare though it once had been accused of having no bite. 

_Sometimes,_ Megatron thought, _a gilded cage can have a beautiful view._


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An open hand can be a bridge over troubled waters to an uneasy mind.

Rodimus slid into their chosen booth at the back of Visages. He tossed a look over his shoulder as if the devil was chasing him. “So what's on the agenda today?” Rodimus flashed a too bright smile at his companion.

The forced nonchalance garnered him a furrowed brow from Megatron. “We promised honesty to one another did we not?” Megatron placed the datapad he’d been reading aside giving his co-captain his full attention.

“I don’t know what…” He couldn’t finish the sentence its words turned to ash in his mouth. “I’ve gotten a few messages from Him. They flashed up on the lock screen of my datapad. It’s there just long enough for me to read it then gone. I had another one pop up on my vid-screen this morning. It’s messing with me. Like, am I really seeing it or is my mind playing tricks on me?” It wasn’t a question; it was a quest for something stable in a world of shifting sand. 

“How long has this been going on?”

“Too long; a few weeks.” Rodimus scrubbed at his face. “I thought he’d get the hint you know? And it would stop, but it hasn’t. He’s still so damn persistent, probably a hell of a lot angrier too; it’s going to suck royally when he finally gets hold of me again.” Rodimus sounded resigned to his fate.

“He will not be granted that opportunity again. You will not let him…” Megatron’s voice grew more stern even as it became quieter in volume. 

“Not like I want him to,” Rodimus interjected.

“...I will not let him.” Crimson eyes burned with the glow of hellfire. 

“Let’s be real here; honesty remember? You can’t stay with me all the time. At some point, he’s going to catch up with me. And there’s not a whole lot you or anyone else can do about it. I just hope there's enough of me left to piece back together when it's over.” 

“Stay with me.” 

It was said so matter-of-factly that Rodimus had to ask for clarification. “What?”

“Or shall I stay with you? There is a Captain’s Suite that is currently unoccupied aboard this ship is there not?” 

“Uh, well I mean I guess so? I picked my quarters to be on the same deck as Drift, but I never thought to look for any official Captain’s quarters.” Rodimus spun his glass in his hands as he spoke. It was amazing to him sometimes how many things in his life occurred to him because he just didn’t think. Definitely something he should try to do more often. 

Megatron eyed him for a moment his gaze fell on the flame-colored speedster. Rodimus twitched from the imagined weight of it. “Yes, well, nevertheless, they are available and unoccupied. I’m sure there’s plenty of room for us both especially since we are hardly ever off-duty at the same time. But it keeps you from having to be alone and lessen the opportunity your attacker has to get you. Given his dislike for me, it may be a bit of a deterrent. So unless you are opposed to the idea, cohabitation seems like the most plausible solution.”

~oOo~

Megatron's idea had worked, in so much as Rodimus had remained free from his former lover's grasp. And while that did provide a measure of relief Rodimus was still walking on eggshells. Living with Megatron added a whole different level of stress to his world. Rodimus was trying to be a good roommate or whatever they were. Most of his off time was spent cleaning and picking up after himself. While Megatron was correct in that they were rarely shared an entire off-shift at the same time even when his co-captain wasn't there his presence lingered. Rodimus was determined for this unnamed thing to go differently. He'd messed up badly last time and had brought down his lover's wrath upon himself. While Megatron had shown he had the patience of Primus, Rodimus still didn't want to mess up so badly that this, whatever it was, ended because of him and his many flaws. 

The door to their suite opened Megatron just managed to wait until the door closed before he groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I do not envy you your upcoming shift.” 

Rodimus stopped dusting between the keys of their entertainment console to watch the other mech rotate his neck then shoulders as he tried to loosen them from the tense set. One dark hand settled on his hip as Megatron bent to the side sent a resounding crack through the components of his back as they realigned. “That bad huh?” Rodimus spoke softly in the silence of the room. 

“Unfortunately, yes. This section of space is playing havoc with many of our systems. Phantom readings, power outages, ghost ships, it has everyone on edge.” Megatron sat down heavily. Rodimus fought with himself to not go to his co-captain. He wondered what would happen if he warmed his hands and rubbed at the soreness that plagued the older mech. It would be an excuse to put his hands on Megatron something he still didn’t have the confidence to do despite all that had happened between them.

“That sounds like a whole lot of not fun.” Rodimus returned Megatron’s slide-eyed glance with a smirk for his intentional lousy grammar then returned to his cleaning when Megatron's gaze persisted. 

“Rodimus you've cleaned that same spot for the last since I entered. Either it is filthy, which I doubt, or you're avoiding something.” When Rodimus said nothing, Megatron continued. “Come, sit with me, tell me what occupies your mind.” Megatron held out his hand to his companion. 

Rodimus gaze switched between the aforementioned spot to the dark hand awaiting him in invitation. He shifted his cleaning to a new place giving it his entire focus to hide his blush before he spoke again. “Just lost in my thoughts. You know zoned out like I sometimes do.” 

“Must I remind you of our promise to one another? Honesty above all else, do you so easily forget?” Rodimus had known Megatron would see the lie the moment it left his mouth. “Is it that I make you uncomfortable? Did you agree to our cohabitation out of some coercion you felt I exerted on you? It was not my intention to do so. Our arrangement can end whenever you wish it.” 

Rodimus picked up one of their very few nicknacks, one of his meteor surfing trophies, and continued the small circles he was making with his cloth. “It’s not that. It’s nothing.” 

“Then please, if you will, sit with me, share your burdens with me so that I may ease their weight from your mind.” Rodimus watched as that dark hand stretched out to him again this time Rodimus didn’t refuse.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night in and an answer not given.

Rodimus crossed the room slowly his golden hand laid lightly in the black one that engulfed it. “No burdens to share.” He leaned against the side of Megatron’s chair, but Megatron pulled Rodimus across his lap. The younger mech refused to meet Megatron’s gaze. He instead focused on drawing patterns on the larger mech’s hand. ”Nervous energy to burn off I guess.”

Crimson optics searched ever evasive blue. “You must think me decrepit beyond my years otherwise why would you continue your attempts to deceive me?”

Rodimus brought his arm across his body to slowly spin the wheel housed in his forearm. “It’s not that, I mean you’re old but not decrepit. Now Ratchet, definitely Kup…” Rodimus held his breath as sizeable black hand lifted his chin. 

“So then you are afraid of me? I can’t blame you for that. I did give you plenty of reasons to harbor those fears. But if you’ll let me, I’d like to do what I can to assuage them in whatever small measure I may.” 

“And I’d like nothing more than to let you. But, I don’t know. Things like this I just don't get. One night stands I can do. Quick and dirty frags in whatever hole me and my partner find to burn off some energy, but relationships? Long-term things? I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t have the best interpersonal skills, and don’t you dare laugh at that.” 

Rodimus breathed a deep sigh as a large warm hand traced patterns over his spoiler. “I will never laugh when you open yourself to me. I appreciate your trust too much for that. Shall I share something intimate with you then?” At Rodimus searching gaze, he continued. “Let’s see, shall I tell you that I myself am not good at interpersonal relationships? No, I’m sure that is no secret. How about I tell you about my fear of needles? That I was beaten into submission, strapped to a table while mnemosurgeon altered my mind? So do not think I see you as weak for what you have survived. It takes a strong person to survive such an ordeal. I am in awe of your inner strength and resilience.” 

Rodimus dipped his head to hide the heat in his face, he fought as Megatron’s hand sought to lift his face again, though stopped his resistance when warm lips brushed the side of his head. “Flattery is full of false words and is not something I’m prone to; I will only speak the truth to you, my co-captain, as that is something we’ve sworn to give to one another. You are strong, and your strength of will is something that while I once found it infuriating now, I find it admirable when I think of where you were just a short time ago.” 

Rodimus turned to look at Megatron. He searched the other as Drift had taught him, to look for some hint of deception in field, aura, or optics. He found none and at Megatron’s small smile he found his courage to kiss the mech who had become his rock and the foundation on which he was slowly rebuilding himself. “I don't understand, why do you have so much faith in me? Why do you even care? I thought I annoyed you?” Rodimus asked once they parted. His forehead pressed against Megatron’s though Rodimus kept his optics closed to shut out his invasive insecurities out that lingered along the edges of his mind. 

“You inspire it. Surely you must see that? The way I and so many respond to you? We flock to you as if you are a living flame and we're are moth drawn by your spell. You are as inescapable as the sun’s gravity. Though I did try to resist you.” Megatron huffed a small laugh that brought Rodimus’ optics open and online to seek out his gaze. The fear in them kept Megatron’s words flowing. “Do not misunderstand me little one. I was determined to stand steadfast against you all. To keep myself apart so that when, in my mind, the inevitable attack came I would be ready for it. I have become accustomed to keeping my guard up always. It has kept me alive for many millennia. But you with your indomitable fire has sparked something in me that I thought long extinguished.” 

Rodimus pulled the dark hand stroking his face around to place a kiss that lingered on the age roughened palm. “What?” When all he received by way of an answer was a small smile, and a gentle stroke of Megatron’s thumb across his lips something desperate in Rodimus’ resolve to stay withdrawn broke loose. “Tell me? Please?” He hated how desperate his breathy voice sounded, but the ache in his spark demanded this knowledge.

“Desire,” Megatron’s voice lay quiet between them. “…For life, for something other than solitude, for an end to loneliness, for more.” 

Rodimus grasped at Megatron’s collar faring as though it were all that kept him from falling or flying apart as his spark spun wildly and his thoughts chased themselves in chaotic circles. “More? From me? Do you want me to be that more? 

Megatron’s dark hands eclipsed Rodimus gold ones as he took them into his own. “Ah, little Prime, be careful what you ask of me for I am greedy in my desires. My passions are as all-consuming as your flames.” 

Rodimus moved as close to his more substantial co-captain as their frames would allow. “I don’t care. I need to know. I want… to know.” He bit his lip to stop the tumble of words that threatened to fall from him in a never-ending litany. 

“Well then my little Prime, you shall have your answer.” Megatron kissed the pinned lip, drawing it into his mouth to swipe the tip of his tongue along its much-abused surface.


End file.
